Unexpected

by erimeows

Summary:

Shortly after Roy Mustang's long-awaited promotion to Fuhrer, a routine doctor's visit reveals something unexpected; his girlfriend of ten years, Riza Hawkeye, is pregnant. With both their long term relationship and their long term military careers on the line, Roy and Riza have to learn how to navigate this new season of life and whatever it may throw at them.

Chapter 1

It’s mid-morning as Riza Hawkeye waits around the Fuhrer’s office, the time ticking slowly. She has her annual physical at the doctor’s office soon and has been passing the time all morning doing menial tasks- filing forgotten paperwork, attending unimportant staff meetings, and updating military maps of Amestris

 

Now, she finds herself sitting on the lap of her long-time boyfriend and newly-appointed Fuhrer, Roy Mustang. The office door is locked as he dotes on her- something that she halfheartedly advises him against doing at work, but doesn’t have the heart to refuse. 

 

“I think,” He starts, hugging her body close to his. One of his hands is on the small of her back, while the other caresses her cheek. “We should just go ahead and get married, general.”

 

“As much as I’d love that, it’s still very much illegal, sir ,” Riza reminds him of the fraternization laws that are still in place, those of which make their relationship punishable by jail time.

 

If the public were to find out about it now, it would be a disaster- one of the many reasons they’ve agreed to keep things a secret until long after Roy is able to abolish the aforementioned laws.

 

“Soon enough, it won’t be,” Roy brags and reaches forward to grab a paper from his desk, that of which Riza recognizes as the drafted proposal to make it legal for members of the military to be in relationships with one another. “I could sign the bill into effect today if I really wanted.”

 

“Right, and have people complain about you doing it a week after your promotion,” Riza lightly scolds, shaking her head at him. Even if they would be legally okay, she doesn’t want people to think that Roy became Fuhrer just to make their relationship legal, or that he’s only going to use the position in a self-serving way. They have more work to do first to prove to the public that he’s going to do a good job before they do anything risky. “I think you should give it a few more months before you go crazy with enacting new laws. We talked about this.”

 

“Fine, if you say so,” Roy sighs and tosses the paper back onto the desk, though a glint of determination lingers in his charcoal eyes. “But the second I sign it, I’ll start planning our wedding. It’ll be a grand affair.”

“Is that so?” Riza asks and tilts her head- a silent invitation that he easily accepts.

 

He plants one kiss, and then another against the scar she received on The Promised Day. Following them are a shower of kisses left against the rest of the skin on her neck. 

 

“Oh, yes,” He answers between kisses before pressing another one against her jaw. “A big, lavish wedding fit for my queen. The entirety of Amestris will be there.”

 

“God, you’re obnoxious, but,” Riza chuckles, knowing he’s teasing. She pictures a more intimate affair, far removed from the grandeur he’s describing. “I’ll be looking forward to that.”

 

Roy’s gaze flickers across the room, his eyes catching the wall opposite to them. He suddenly stops to look up at Riza, his brow furrowed. 

 

“Hey, shouldn’t you be going to your doctor’s appointment right about now?”

The question from Roy has her looking at the clock at the wall to see that it’s eleven thirty. Her appointment is in half an hour at a doctor’s office halfway across town, so she knows that to make it on time to fill out the paperwork, she’ll need to leave as soon as possible.

 

“Yeah, I’m going to head out,” She agrees and leans down, pressing a soft kiss against Roy’s cheek. “I love you.”

 

“I love you, too. Call if anything happens.”

 

“Of course.”

 

With that, she stands from his lap and grabs her purse, hoping for an uneventful visit. 

 

~

 

Riza sits alone in a small, sterile room, her body tense on the uncomfortable patient’s couch. The window offers a view of the city, but it’s hard to pay attention to it given the circumstances. Her thoughts churn as she waits for the results of her physical.

 

The visit has already been tedious; mountains of paperwork, a vial of blood drawn by a brusque phlebotomist, and the indignity of peeing in a cup. Still, Riza expects the usual- normal results, a clean bill of health. In the back of her mind, though, she wonders if this will be the year that she finds out her health is as poor as her mother’s or her father’s- the year she finds out that she’s sick with something horrible, a fear that is ever-present, especially now that she’s finally discovered happiness.

 

The door opens, and an older Ishvalan woman steps in, clipboard in hand. The doctor’s silver hair gleams under the fluorescent lights. Her sharp, ruby red eyes are softened by a professional smile. She wears coke bottle glasses, a white overcoat atop a black shirt, and beige slacks with a pair of flats.

 

“Good afternoon, Ms. Hawkeye, how are you?” She asks, a small smile on her face as she looks down at the clipboard held in her hands. 

 

“I’m well, and you?”

 

“Very good. Let’s get started so you can return to work,” The doctor replies, launching into the routine checks of Riza’s blood pressure, reflexes, heart, lungs, and so on. It’s familiar and uneventful- until it isn’t.

 

The doctor pulls away and sits down, frowning at the clipboard. She reads the papers once, then again, her expression tightening.

 

“Well, everything looks good with you and your test results, Ms. Hawkeye, but there is one thing I need to tell you,” The doctor slowly starts, her smile not quite reaching her eyes now.

 

“Oh?” Riza asks. Her heart, calm just moments before, is now pounding in her chest. “What is it?”

 

In her mind, Riza starts to go through possible diagnoses; cancer, an infection, a blood disorder? Maybe something minor like anemia, or-

 

The doctor hesitates before delivering the words that change everything. 

 

“You’re pregnant,” She answers, and then continues on as if she didn’t just turn Riza’s words upside down. “I noticed that you marked ‘no’ when asked if you were expecting on your intake paperwork, so I’m assuming you were still unaware?”

 

The word hits Riza like a physical blow. For a moment, she feels like she’s underwater, the world muffled and distant. 

 

“What? There’s no way,” She stammers. “Could you test me again?”

 

“It looks like they ran it twice, and false positives are very rare,” The doctor gently shoots down the chance of the results being inaccurate. “Were you and your partner, er… Trying. for lack of a better term?”

 

“Of course not!” She exclaims, frustrated that the other woman would even ask that after the reaction Riza had to the news.

 

“Well, it’s understandable that you’re a little taken aback. You did just find out, and it’s clearly… A surprise,” The doctor clears her throat, averting her gaze. Riza has never been more embarrassed and confused in her life. She puts a hand on her stomach, but it feels the same. She feels the same. How, after all these years, could she be pregnant? What will Roy think? God, what is she going to do? “For now, why don’t we schedule a prenatal appointment? We can fit you in a month from now at the same time.”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Riza hazily agrees, unsure of what else to say or do. 

 

“Do you have any questions for me right now?”

 

“How far along am I? I haven’t had any symptoms, I haven’t gained any weight, I definitely don’t look pregnant…” She rambles, running a hand through her hair. 

 

“Based on your hormone levels, I’d say somewhere between four and five weeks, so it’s still rather early on,” The doctor explains while glancing down at the paperwork again. “It’s understandable that you wouldn’t be having any physical changes yet. I’d say to expect symptoms to start manifesting in the next few weeks; morning sickness, swollen breasts, weight gain, bloating, increases and decreases in appetite, and frequent urination are all normal. If you develop a new symptom that you’re unsure about, just call and ask our nurse’s line.”

 

“Okay,” She nods and forces herself to take a deep breath before exhaling. “What should I do until the next appointment? Anything I need to know?”

 

“Well, there’s not much to do at this point… I’ll have the nurse give you some prenatals and iron tablets to take home, take one of each a day in the morning. Be sure you’re avoiding cigarettes, alcohol, drugs, and any kind of raw meat or fish,” The doctor instructs. “And, if you start bleeding or experiencing painful cramps, faint, or get into any sort of accident, you should come in immediately.”

 

“But- but what about my job?” She asks. Though things have been peaceful since Fuhrer Bradley’s death, she knows that things could go haywire at any time. As Roy’s bodyguard, she has to be able to protect him, but… She’s not even sure he’ll want her to continue being his right hand now that she’s pregnant. “I’m in the military.”

 

“Since we’re not in a time of war, you should be alright to resume work as long as you don’t travel long distances or engage in any combat. You should just resume your usual activity; it’s good to stay active while you’re pregnant within reason. If you need a doctor’s note to excuse yourself from anything at any point, though, just call the office and we’ll make sure you get one.”

 

“...Alright,” Riza nods.

 

“Anything else?”

 

“I don’t think so.”

 

“I’ll see you in a month, then!”

 

“Right… Thanks.”

 

With that, the doctor walks her out of the private room and back to the front.

Riza leaves the office with tears in her eyes and a heavy blush on her cheeks with no idea of where to go from here- how to tell Roy, how to take care of herself and- apparently- a whole other person, how to keep the public from knowing about this as her body changes…

 

What the hell is she going to do?

 

~

 

Upon returning back to work, Riza parks in front of the building and cries. And cries… And cries . It’s not the pretty kind of cry, but the ugly kind that has her eyes red and puffy and big globs of snot leaking from her nose. She’s already used all of the tissues in the glovebox of her car- they’re soaking wet and jammed into her cupholders. Out of desperation, she wipes her face on the inside of her shirt.

 

After what must be the tenth attempt, she’s finally able to get herself to stop crying. It’s then that there’s a knock on her car window.

 

Riza nearly jumps out of her skin at the sound, choking on her spit as she snaps her head around to see who it is.

 

When she sees that it’s only Alex Louis Armstrong, who is crouching to be eye level with her, his strong features laced with concern, she lets out a sigh. As if today hasn’t been humiliating enough…

 

Riza rolls down her car window and looks at the man, trying to figure out exactly how she’s going to play this off. She hasn’t even told Roy yet- she definitely can’t tell Alex. 

 

“You scared the shit out of me,” She breathes the words out, her voice shakier than she intends for it to be.

 

“Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but you’ve been crying in your car since I left for my lunch break, and I can’t allow a friend to suffer in solitude,” Alex, bless him, says the words without judgment. Riza is embarrassed to know that anyone noticed- she parked in the back of the lot on purpose to avoid being seen… Oh well. “What’s going on? Can I help?”

 

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do at this point, but I appreciate the sentiment,” Riza takes her keys out of the ignition, wipes the remnants of her tears on her sleeve, and opens the car door so she can get out. Alex steps to the side. “Please just don’t tell anyone you saw me like this.”

 

“I won’t,” He promises with ease, and then holds his arms out. “Would a hug help?”

 

Hesitantly, Riza nods. Armstrong immediately leans down and pulls her into his chest, squeezing her tight enough that her anxiety leaves her momentarily, but not tight enough to hurt. He’s warm and weighty and reassuring like a weighted blanket. If she’s being honest, the hug doesn’t last long enough after the afternoon she’s had. 

 

“You do give good hugs,” Riza admits as he lets go of her.

 

“Of course I do! This hug has been passed through the Armstrong family for generations!” The blond beams down at her. “And if you ever need another one, all you have to do is ask.”

 

“Right. Thank you, Armstrong.”

 

“Are you hungry? The cafeteria’s still open.”

 

Riza pauses. To be honest, the last thing she wants to do is eat, but if she really is pregnant… She should probably make sure that she’s eating well. So, she agrees.

 

“Sure,” She nods.

 

With that, they walk into the building together, side by side. Riza feels a sense of relief wash over her. No matter what happens, she still has good friends who will make sure she’s cared for, just like she cares for them.

 

The moment they reach the cafeteria, however, Riza is hit by a wave of nausea. There’s a salad bar with boiled eggs- something she swears she would’ve salivated at just a few days ago. Now, though, the sight and smell of them combined is enough to have bile traveling from her stomach to her throat. She slaps a hand over her mouth and makes a run for the nearest trash can, pushing some poor first lieutenant out of the way so she can grab the sides of the grey container and empty her stomach’s contents into it.

 

Alex follows close behind, rubbing Riza’s back and speaking with urgency.

 

“Hawkeye, are you ill!? You should’ve told me!” He says, completely unaware of the reality of the situation. “I should go get a nurse from the infirmary-”

 

Riza sits up from the trash can just enough to shoot him a pointed glare.

 

“Do not go get a nurse,” She objects while wiping the corners of the mouth with the back of her sleeve. The last thing she needs right now is for anyone here to know that she’s pregnant. The nurses at central headquarters have always been the gossipy type, anyway. “Just… I should go tell the Fuhrer that I’m sick and go home.”

 

“Very well, then. Should I walk you to his office?”

 

“That’s alright,” Riza dismisses him, not wanting to trouble him any further (or worse, have him start asking questions). “I’ll see you later, Armstrong.”

 

Riza rushes out of the cafeteria, trying her best to ignore the stares from her coworkers as she does. There’s no way she’s going to be able to hide this forever…

Chapter 2

Roy Mustang sits alone in his office, his desk piled high with papers he’s only half-paying attention to. His pen taps an unsteady rhythm against the wood, a futile attempt to distract himself from the gnawing unease in his chest. It’s been nearly three hours since Riza left for her annual physical. She’s usually so punctual when she goes to appointments, leaving and returning within the hour. Today, though, she’s late. Too late.

 

Something is wrong. Roy just knows it. When you’ve been with someone for as long as he’s been with Riza, you develop a talent to sense when something is going on with them. If the three hours without a word from her isn’t enough of a hint, the lack of a phone call to explain the delay certainly is.

 

He leans back in his chair and forces himself to stare at the stack of proposals in front of him, his eyes scanning words that blur together. Since he’s become Fuhrer, there have been a flurry of requests for him to change this or that, leaving him with an endless list of things to do. For once, though, not even work can pull his mind from his growing worry. Has something happened? Was she hurt on the way there? No, he reasons. He would’ve been informed immediately. But what if the doctor found something serious? An illness she hasn’t told him about?

 

The thought ties a knot in his stomach. He glances at the clock again and clenches his jaw.

 

Almost as if on cue, the door creaks open.

 

Relief floods through him as Riza steps into the office. He sits up straighter, the tension in his shoulders loosening for a moment until he sees her face. Her eyes are red and glassy, her expression distant and uncharacteristically soft. She looks nothing like the calm, collected woman he knows so well.

 

Before he can think, Roy is on his feet, crossing the room in long strides. He reaches her in seconds, placing his hands gently but firmly on either side of her face. His dark eyes search hers, trying to piece together what’s wrong before she even speaks.

 

“What’s wrong?” He demands, his voice low but urgent. 

 

Riza doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she looks down, her lips parting slightly as if searching for words that don’t come. Roy has seen her face battlefields without a flicker of hesitation, has watched her stare down death itself. But now, standing before him, she seems... Vulnerable. The sight scares him shitless.

 

“It’s just… I’m…” She stammers, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. 

 

Roy tightens his grip on her shoulders slightly, willing her to meet his gaze.

 

“You’re what?” He prompts, his brows drawing together in concern. 

 

His mind races through possibilities, each more dire than the last. Is she sick? Has someone found out about their relationship? Did something happen between her and one of their coworkers? 

 

“I’m sick,” She blurts out, the words rushed and heavy. Her tone is off- too clipped, too wrong . Something doesn’t sit right, and he can tell she knows it too. The way she avoids his eyes, the way she fidgets- it’s all so unlike her. Roy can tell, too, that as soon as the words come out of her mouth, she regrets them. “It’s nothing serious, just a bug, but… I threw up in the cafeteria, so…”

 

“You’re sick?” Roy repeats, the word echoing in his mind. “What did the doctor say?”

 

“It’s… not that big of a deal,” Riza says quickly, but there’s something in her expression that looks like guilt. 

 

Roy knows she’s not telling him the full truth, but he also knows better than to push her when she’s like this. If there’s one thing he’s learned about Riza, it’s that she’ll share what’s on her mind when she’s ready, and only when she’s ready.

 

“Alright,” He whispers after a few seconds too long, his voice softer now. “You should go home and rest, then. Can you drive?”

 

She nods, though her movements are stiff. 

 

“I should be fine.”

 

Roy still doesn’t believe her, but he lets it go. For now. 

 

“I’ll be by in a few hours to check on you,” He says, and then before she can object, adds on- “Don’t argue.”

 

For a moment, she hesitates, then sighs. 

 

“Alright.”

 

He steps back, dropping his hands from her face but letting one linger briefly on her arm. 

 

“I love you,” He says, the words slipping out almost instinctively. 

 

Even after all these years, there’s a part of him that still holds his breath, waiting for her response.

 

“I love you, too,” She replies with ease.

 

He watches as she turns and walks out of the office, the click of the door behind her leaving the room eerily quiet.

 

Roy exhales slowly and leans against his desk, rubbing a hand over his face. He hates this feeling; the not knowing. He trusts Riza implicitly, but something is gnawing at him, telling him this isn’t as simple as she’s making it seem.

 

He glances at the clock again. It’s only the middle of the afternoon, but he wonders how quickly he can wrap up his schedule. Perhaps if he delegates just enough, he can leave early without drawing too much attention.

 

The stack of papers on his desk suddenly seems trivial compared to the weight on his shoulders. Whatever’s going on with her, he’s going to make it better, no matter what it takes. 

~

 

After kissing up to Havoc, Fuery, Falman, and Breda for the remainder of his work day, Roy is able to convince them to take over so he can go ‘home’. What they don’t know is that ‘home’ is actually Riza Hawkeye’s apartment, which is just a few blocks from headquarters.

 

Roy stands outside Riza’s apartment door, glancing over his shoulder to ensure that no one is watching him. The dimly lit hallway is quiet, save for the faint hum of the city below. Even so, he lingers, his heart heavy with unease. He’s wearing sunglasses and a fedora to hide his hair and eyes, which keeps him from being recognized for the most part, but still… He hates this- the secrecy, the sneaking around, the constant fear of being caught. But right now, the risk feels trivial compared to his worry for her.

 

He raises a hand and knocks on the wooden door. For a long moment, there’s no response, and just as he’s about to knock again, the door slowly opens. Riza stands there, her face pale and blotchy, her eyes red and glassy from crying just as he suspected earlier. Now, he can pretty much confirm it based on the tear stains on her cheeks. She isn’t wearing her uniform or the gear that she wears to the gun range after work, which Roy finds unusual since it’s still early evening. Instead, she’s wrapped in a loose sweater and sweatpants.

 

“Riza,” He says softly, stepping inside before she can protest. He notices how her shoulders stiffen as she closes the door behind him. “You’ve been crying.”

 

“I’m fine,” She replies quickly, but the way her voice cracks betrays her. 

 

“You don’t look fine,” He argues, his gaze fixed on her. 

 

He reaches out to touch her face, but she sidesteps him, moving toward the living room. He follows, watching her as she perches on the edge of the couch, her arms folded tightly across her chest. 

 

“Riza,” He sits down beside her, tossing an arm over her shoulders. “You don’t seem sick to me. Something’s wrong that you’re not telling me about.”

 

“I told you, I’m fine,” She insists, her voice sharper now. But he knows her too well to believe it. “I… I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

 

Roy leans back and decides to change tactics. He knows that if he pushes too hard, she’ll kick him out of the apartment, which is the last thing he wants.

 

“How about I grab us some dinner? Panda House sound good?”

 

The reaction is immediate and startling. Riza winces, her expression twisting in discomfort. She shakes her head quickly. 

 

“No. That sounds… Disgusting.”

 

Roy blinks, caught off guard. 

 

“Disgusting?” He repeats. Panda House has been her favorite takeout place for years, something she talks him into getting for her at least once a week. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” She says again, but her voice falters, growing quieter.

 

He lets it go for now.

 

“Alright,” He says, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “But if you’re not up for cooking, we can figure something else out.”

 

She doesn’t respond, staring at the coffee table as if lost in thought. The silence stretches between them, heavy and uncomfortable, until Roy speaks again.

 

“Riza, I know things haven’t been easy for us and that my promotion has probably made you as stressed as it has happy. Is that what’s bothering you? The sneaking around, pretending we’re just colleagues- I know it’s exhausting. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what it’ll be like when I finally pass that bill. Once we don’t have to hide anymore. I want us to settle down. Together.”

 

Her shoulders tense, and for a moment, he sees something in her expression shift. 

 

“We’ve been talking about this for years,” She whispers, staring down at the ground. “I want that too. But it’s… Complicated.”

 

“Everything in our lives is complicated,” He reassures her with a small smile. “But we’ll figure it out. We always do. I just… I want you to know that I’m serious. About us. About everything. You have nothing to worry about when it comes to me, okay?”

 

For a second, it looks like she’s about to respond, but instead, her face crumples, and she covers it with her hands. Her body shakes as sobs break free, raw and unrestrained.

 

“Riza! Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Roy is at her side in an instant, pulling her into his arms. He hasn’t seen her like this since she thought that Lust had killed him, sobbing without restraint and totally defeated. The sight- the sound- is unsettling and heartbreaking in a way that makes his heart ache. He holds her tightly, his hand stroking slow circles on her back. His chest tightens at the sound of her crying. Riza never cries, not like this. Whatever’s happening, it’s tearing her apart. “It’s alright.”

 

“I’m sorry,” She chokes out between sobs. “I’m sorry.”

 

“What are you apologizing for?” He asks, pulling back just enough to see her face, which she desperately tries to hide from him. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

 

She shakes her head, unable to answer, and buries her face against his shoulder. He sits there for a moment and tries to piece together the cause of her pain. Then it hits him, a sickening thought that settles like a stone in his gut.

 

“Are you thinking about Ishval?” Her sobs hitch slightly, and though she doesn’t confirm it outright, he (stupidly) takes her silence as an answer. “You’re thinking about what we did... I know, Riza. I know how hard it is to let go of that guilt. I think about it every day. But what happened there doesn’t mean we don’t deserve happiness now. We’ve done so much to make things right. We’re still doing it. We have to survive so that we can keep doing it.”

 

He cups her face in his hands, gently brushing away her tears with his thumbs. Her swollen eyes meet his, and he offers her a small, reassuring smile. 

 

“You and I? We’ve fought for this. For each other. And I don’t care what anyone says- we deserve to be happy together," She nods faintly at his words, her sobs slowing but not stopping entirely. He presses a soft kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling back. “Why don’t I make us some tea? I promise it won’t be as ‘disgusting’ as Panda House.”

 

That earns a weak chuckle from her, and he smiles. It’s not much, but it’s a start.

 

As he rises and moves toward her small kitchen, Roy can’t shake the feeling that he’s still missing something. Whatever’s troubling her, it’s deeper than she’s letting on. But for now, all he can do is be there, offering her comfort until she’s ready to tell him the truth. Whatever it is, they’ll face it together, just as they always have.

Chapter 3

Riza doesn’t know how the hell to tell Roy what’s going on, so for a few days, she doesn’t… And then, a few days turns into a week, and then into two weeks. By the time that she realizes it's been half a month and she still hasn’t told him, she sits in the dining room of her apartment with her head in her hands and a cold cup of tea sitting on the table in front of her.

 

For the first time in a long time, she’s scared . She’s gone back and forth between a variety of emotions; anger, sadness, happiness, fear- but after ruminating on it all over the last couple weeks, she settles on scared . 

 

She’s scared to be pregnant. She’s scared of the changes her body will inevitably go through. She’s scared of giving birth. 

 

She’s scared of what her colleagues will think about her getting pregnant out of wedlock, because even if she and Roy somehow managed to get married before the baby’s arrival, anyone who can do basic arithmetic would be able to put it together. She’s scared that everyone around them will stop taking her seriously. She’s scared that her career will be over. 

 

She’s scared of raising a child when she herself was barely raised, when she has no idea what she should do or where she should start. She’s scared that they’re going to fuck up their kid. 

 

She’s scared that, after everything she did in Ishval, she doesn’t deserve this and something horrible will happen to her or the baby- karma for all of the lives she’s taken. 

 

She’s scared of what Roy is going to say. And, most of all, she’s scared of what this could do to Roy and his fragile position as the newly appointed Fuhrer.

 

Being scared… Doesn’t feel nice. It never has. And this is the most scared she’s ever been.

 

She would love to hide it- forever if she could, but she knows that in a few months time it’s going to be obvious. Roy can already tell that something is wrong. The poor idiot’s been prying for answers since Riza’s annual physical with no luck. 

 

Riza looks out the kitchen window to see that it’s pouring rain. She wonders what he’s doing, her throat and chest tightening with anxiety. How is she supposed to tell him, especially after it’s been so long since she found out? What if he’s angry? Not at her- she knows him too well for that- but at the situation. At the impossible position they’re in. At the weeks of time they’ve wasted. Their relationship is already a secret they’re barely managing to keep. What would happen if people found out she was pregnant? What if they found out he’s the father ?

 

She presses her hand lightly against her abdomen, still flat and unchanged. It doesn’t feel real, and yet, it is. She’s been having to excuse herself to the restroom an ungodly amount during work, foods that she loved just a month ago have become unappetizing, she’s been eating entire jars of pickles like they’re candy, and the nausea she’s been experiencing throughout the last couple of weeks has been downright horrible . As much as she would love to deny it, the pregnancy is very much real, and now, she’s six or seven weeks along. 

 

She thinks back to the last few times they’d had sex, trying to pinpoint the exact date, but all of the encounters blur into each other. Still, they were always careful, using condoms to prevent something like this from happening. Riza feels angry that she did everything right and still ended up pregnant by accident. How embarrassing…

 

A faint knock at the door startles her, and she freezes, her heart leaping to her throat.

 

Another knock. She exhales slowly, gathering herself before walking to the door. When she opens it, she finds her neighbor; a young mother holding her toddler on one hip.

 

“Sorry to bother you, General,” The woman says with an apologetic smile. “I was wondering if you might have any spare sugar? I thought I’d bake some cookies for the kiddos, and I didn’t notice that I was out of sugar until after I’d cracked my eggs into the bowl.”

 

Riza stares for a moment, her mind still tangled in its own thoughts. Then she nods. 

 

“Of course. Just a moment.”

 

She fetches a bag of sugar from her pantry, returns to the doorway, and hands it over. The woman beams. 

 

“Thanks so much! I’ll bring you some cookies once they’re done.”

 

“That’s not necessary,” Riza replies. To be honest, the last thing she wants is anything sweet. “Really.”

 

The woman waves and departs, leaving Riza alone once more.

 

As she closes the door, her eyes linger on the woman’s retreating figure and the child perched on her hip. There’s an ache in her chest she can’t quite place. For a brief moment, she wonders what it might feel like to hold her own child like that- to have a normal life with Roy where such a scene wouldn’t seem so far away.

 

She shakes her head to clear it of the thought before looking down at her watch. It’s already almost time for work, so she dumps her cold cup of tea down the sink, grabs her purse, and heads to central command.

~

After a long day at work, Riza stops by the pharmacy. Her morning sickness is getting to the point that it’s affecting her at work, so she calls her doctor and asks for an anti-nausea prescription. Thankfully, her doctor calls one in for her at the nearest pharmacy. 

 

Dodging an attempt from Roy to sneak off to his house is difficult, but manageable, so she finds herself in the pharmacy just minutes after her shift ends- even if she does feel somewhat bad about it. 

 

The quiet hum of the building is punctuated by the soft rustling of paper bags and the occasional beep of the register. Riza stands at the counter, clutching her prescription bag tightly as she waits for the pharmacist to ring her up. The strong scent of cleaning chemicals fill the air, and the fluorescent lights buzz faintly overhead, making her nauseous all over again. 

 

The anti-nausea medicine tucked inside the bag feels heavier than it should. She’s managed to keep her condition a secret from Roy and her colleagues so far save the one slip up she had in the cafeteria the day she found out, but every hidden trip to the bathroom has felt like balancing on a knife’s edge.

 

As she steps away from the counter, slipping the bag into her purse, a familiar voice calls out behind her.

 

“Riza?”

 

She turns to see Rebecca Catalina standing near the aisles, holding a small basket filled to the brim. Her bright smile falters slightly when she gets a good look at Riza’s face.

 

“Rebecca,” Riza says, forcing a small smile. Despite Rebecca being her best friend, they haven’t seen each other in weeks. With Roy’s promotion and the pregnancy, she’s just been too preoccupied. A pang of guilt stabs at her as she thinks about it. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

 

“I could say the same. Are you okay? You look… Tired,” Rebecca frowns. 

 

“I’m fine. I’ve just been working a lot since Fuhrer Mustang’s promotion,” Riza replies in an attempt to deflect Rebecca’s concern. “Just running some errands. You?”

 

“Just picking up a few things,” Rebecca says. Riza glances at her basket and its contents; vitamins, nail polish, condoms, lube, and a gigantic bag of saltwater taffy. She then glances at Riza’s bag with a curious gaze. “What about you? Anything interesting?”

 

“Nothing worth mentioning,” Riza deflects, shifting the bag further into her purse. “Just a few essentials.”

 

Rebecca doesn’t seem convinced, but she lets it go. 

 

“Alright, let’s walk. I’m heading out anyway. Gotta get home to cook dinner.”

 

They leave the pharmacy together, stepping into the brisk evening air. Riza clutches her purse tightly, trying to focus on the conversation as Rebecca chatters about her most recent date. Riza can barely pay attention.

 

“...and then Jean said, ‘I’ll cook for you.’ Can you believe that? That’s like an invitation to get my apartment burned to a crisp. I felt bad for the poor guy, but I had to shoot him down,” Rebecca laughs, nudging Riza’s shoulder.

 

Riza tries to smile, but her attention is elsewhere. Her grip on her purse slips, and before she can react, it tumbles to the ground. The contents spill out- her wallet, house keys, the small pharmacy bag, and… Her prenatals. Fuck.

 

Rebecca crouches down instantly to help Riza gather the scattered items. 

 

“Here, let me-” She pauses, her hand hovering over the bottle. Her dark eyes narrow as she picks it up, reading the label. Slowly, she stands, holding the bottle up with a look that is equal parts shock and curiosity. “Riza… These are prenatal vitamins.”

 

Riza freezes, her heart pounding. 

 

“Rebecca, wait-”

 

She reaches for the bottle, but Rebecca steps back, her expression shifting to something softer. 

 

“Are you… Pregnant?”

 

There’s a long silence. Riza’s mouth opens and closes, words refusing to come out. She can’t lie to her best friend.  

 

Finally, she exhales, her shoulders sagging under the weight of the truth. 

 

“Rebecca, please keep your voice down.”

 

Rebecca’s eyes widen, and she immediately lowers her voice. 

 

“You are, aren’t you? Oh my god, Riza, you’re pregnant . “Why didn’t you tell me? Who’s the father-” She stops herself, her face lighting up with realization. “Oh my god. It’s Fuhrer Mustang, isn’t it?”

 

Riza closes her eyes, and then nods. 

 

“Yes. But you cannot tell anyone. No one can know. Do you understand?”

 

Rebecca stares at her for a moment before breaking into a grin. 

 

“Holy shit, Riza. I mean, I always figured you two were secretly a thing, but this? This is next level. You’re going to have a baby!”

 

“Rebecca,” Riza interrupts, her tone sharp. “This isn’t a joke. If this gets out, it could ruin everything . My career, Roy’s position as Fuhrer- everything we’ve worked for. I need you to promise me you’ll keep this to yourself.”

 

Rebecca sobers instantly, her grin fading as she places a reassuring hand on Riza’s arm. 

 

“Of course. You don’t even have to ask. Sorry, I was just really excited- I mean, it’s not every day that your best friend has a baby, but… Your secret’s safe with me,” Then, her grin returns, albeit smaller this time. “I do have one condition, though.”

 

Riza raises an eyebrow. 

 

“And what would that be?”

 

“You have to let me plan the baby shower,” Rebecca says, crossing her arms over her chest. 

 

Riza blinks, caught off guard by the demand. Then, despite herself, she lets out a small, genuine laugh. To be honest… She never expected anyone to want to celebrate this. It was an accident, and her and Roy aren’t even married, and she doesn’t have any living relatives. Since the day she found out, she’s had this idea that she would have to hide it from everyone- that she didn’t deserve to feel excited. 

 

“Rebecca…”

 

“I’m serious,” Rebecca insists, though her tone is light. “You can’t say no. I’m your best friend. If you have anyone that you want to help with it, let me know, but I really want to do this for you.”

 

“Fine,” Riza says after a moment, shaking her head. “If it’ll make you happy, you can plan the baby shower. Not like I have anyone else who’s going to want to do it, anyway. But not a word to anyone, Rebecca. I mean it.”

 

“Not a word,” Rebecca promises, zipping her lips with a playful gesture. Then, she leans in to pull Riza into a hug. “Congratulations, Riza. Really. You’re going to be a great mom.”

 

Riza feels her throat tighten, but she manages a small nod. 

 

“Thank you.”

 

As they continue walking, Rebecca rambles about baby shower themes, leaving Riza to process everything that’s happened over the last few weeks. For the first time since she’d learned the news, she feels a small glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this will be okay.

Chapter 4

It isn’t until the following Saturday that Roy manages to sneak over to Riza’s apartment again. Between her skillful avoidance of his questions about her odd moods and the relentless demands of his new role as Fuhrer, they haven’t had much time for- well, quality time . Roy realizes quickly that he misses her; the quiet nights spent on her couch listening to the radio, the lazy mornings cuddling in her bed, and… Other, less wholesome activities that have left him feeling far too needy.

 

Determined to recapture some semblance of normalcy, Roy stops by their favorite patisserie early in the morning. He picks up Riza’s favorite dessert, lemon meringue pie. As he waits for the order, his mind drifts back to memories of their younger days at Berthold Hawkeye’s estate, years before they were dating. He pictures them sneaking slices of lemon meringue pie from the kitchen late at night, sharing a single spoon, and laughing under their breath to avoid waking her father. Back then, sneaking past Berthold to get to Riza had been an adventure. Now, he’s sneaking to her apartment under a very different set of rules. He never imagined that after so many years, they’d still have to do it like this, but here they are…

 

The streets are quiet, the early morning air cool against his skin. The sky is still dark, streaked faintly with the promise of sunrise as he arrives at her building. Pie in hand, he knocks on her door, half-expecting her not to answer. The muffled sound of Black Hayate barking tears through the stillness, and within moments, Riza is at the door.

 

She opens it, dressed in plaid pajamas that hang loosely on her frame. Her honey-hued eyes are bleary with sleep, but she looks well-rested- and, more importantly, genuinely happy to see him.

 

“Roy?” She asks, tilting her head as if to confirm he’s really there. Her voice is soft, a hint of morning rasp still clinging to it. “It’s early for you to be here. Did something happen?”

 

“Nothing happened. I just wanted to see you. I brought your favorite,” Roy says, holding up the pie like a peace offering, the corner of his mouth lifting in a sheepish grin.

 

“Ooh, lemon meringue,” Her face lights up at the sight, but her expression quickly shifts to one of playful suspicion. She crosses her arms and leans against the doorframe as her eyes narrow. “What do you want?”

 

“Who said I want anything?” Roy replies smoothly, though the faint blush rising to his cheeks betrays his intentions. 

 

“Do you think I’m dumb enough to believe you showed up at my apartment, freshly showered and practically drenched in cologne, with my favorite dessert in hand, for no reason?” She teases. 

 

Roy hesitates, his guilty smile spreading as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. 

 

“Okay, well, maybe I’ve been missing you.”

 

Riza arches an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smirk. 

 

“Only maybe ? My, that’s not very enthusiastic. I’m not sure I should let you in, since you didn’t miss me that much…”

 

“Alright, fine,” He concedes, taking a small step closer. His foot is in the middle of the doorway, keeping her from shutting him out, even if she wanted to. “I’ve been missing you a lot .”

 

Her smirk softens, and there’s a flicker of warmth in her eyes. 

 

“It has been a while,” She admits with a sigh, her tone laced with understanding. “Being Fuhrer will do that to you.”

 

And Roy suspects that that’s not all it is, but he lets it slide for now.

 

“So, do you want to…?”

 

“Put the damn pie in the fridge and take me already, will you?”

 

Roy listens to her without question, practically tripping himself to get inside the apartment so he can haphazardly push the pie into her fridge, which is unusually crowded with lots of fruits and vegetables that he’s never seen her eat- something unimportant he decides he’ll ask about later as she drags him into the bedroom.

 

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Roy compliments as he shuts the door behind him, locking a certain needy pet out of the bedroom. 

 

Riza drags her shirt off and throws it into the hamper. At the sight of her bare chest, Roy lets out a sigh- of relief, of desire- he doesn’t know, but whatever it is, it’s good as he takes her in with his charcoal eyes. 

 

But then, he pauses for a moment upon noticing that she looks… Different? It hasn’t been that long since the last time they had sex, but her stomach appears just slightly softer, a little more rounded and a little less flat than it was before. Her breasts are different, too, heavier in his hands as he grabs at them and kisses at her neck. In the back of his mind, he figures she’s probably just been eating more and finds that he’s relieved; she’s always had a horrible habit of skipping meals when she’s stressed, and since his promotion, things have certainly been stressful .

 

“What’s wrong?” She asks, unfortunately picking up on his blatant staring.

 

“Nothing’s wrong,” He grumbles at the interruption as his cock strains against his pants, hard and needy after weeks of unfulfilling solo masturbation sessions. 

 

“Then why are you making that face?” She questions with a raised eyebrow. Damn , she knows him too well. “It’s like you’re trying to figure something out. What is it?”

 

“Okay, fine, you caught me,” Roy admits and kneads her breasts in his hands a second time, just to make sure he isn’t mistaken. Again, the weight is just slightly different than it was a few weeks ago, heavier against his palm than it was the last time they did this. They look fuller too, but they’re still similar enough to the way they were that he questions whether he’s imagining it or not. “Your boobs are… Bigger .”

“What?”

 

His hands shift, slipping beneath her pants and cupping her rear over the cotton panties that cover it. 

 

“Your ass is, too.”

 

He doesn’t dare mention her stomach. He’d rather not get kicked out of her bedroom, especially over something he finds to be quite an attractive change. 

 

“About that… I should tell you that it’s because-” Riza starts like she’s done something wrong that she has to talk her way out of, but before she can continue, Roy cuts her off.

“Before you get the wrong idea, I like it, so don’t even start thinking that I don’t. I just didn’t bring it up because I know how you get sometimes. The only reason I said anything is because I knew you wouldn’t let it go,” He explains. Ever since her back was tattooed, she’s been self-conscious about her body, so he knows better than to offer unsolicited commentary. They’ve spent so many nights with him reassuring her that she looks perfect the way she is, but even after all this time, it’s like she still doesn’t believe it- and the last thing Roy wants is for this to devolve into another one of those nights because he couldn’t get his words right. “But you look great . Better than ever.”

 

“Right…” Riza seems to accept his explanation for now, though she still looks slightly unsure of herself as she falls back onto the bed. 

 

“Mind if I take all this off?” He asks, accentuating the request by pulling at the hem of her pajama pants with his fingers. He lets go and offers a small smirk when the fabric snaps back against the skin of her hip. “It’s been too long since I had my head between those beautiful legs of yours.”

 

“You and legs,” Riza teases him with a roll of her eyes, but doesn’t object as Roy peels her pants and panties off and precisely tosses them into the hamper in the corner of the room (if it were up to him, they’d be on the floor so he could be between her legs even faster, but he’d rather not hear her complain about the ‘mess’). “I can’t say I understand your obsession with them.”

 

“Well, if you had a lover with legs as beautiful as yours, maybe you would understand.”

 

Roy is on her as soon as the words are out of his mouth, his larger frame hovering over hers. He puts his hands on her waist, thumbs stroking at the smooth skin as he shimmies further down the length of her body while leaving kisses on every inch he can reach. By the time his hair is brushing against her navel, Riza is threading her hands in the silky raven locks and letting out soft little sighs that let him know he’s doing exactly what he should be to please her. 

 

He shifts his hands down one more time so that they’re between the bed and Riza’s bottom, grabbing at the plush skin tight enough that he can pull her closer to his face. Finally, he leans down and spreads her slick folds with his tongue. She gasps even though the contact is so sparse. It’s then that Roy realizes, after a couple of weeks without, she’s just as pent up as he is.

 

Part of him considers teasing her- dragging it out longer than he should, refusing to give Riza what she really wants until she’s begging for it- but he quickly comes to the conclusion that he needs this even more than she does. So, he leans further in and flattens his tongue to lick a long stripe from Riza’s entrance up to her clit. She tastes divine; sweet, salty, a little tangy, and something indescribably her that he craves more of. Riza cries out and tries to arch at the stimulation, but his grip on her ass practically pins her to his face.

 

“Oh, God,” Riza moans the words at the feeling of him taking her clit between his lips and suckling on it. 

 

He pulls one of his hands back and places it on top of her thigh, inching closer until it’s right at her entrance. He slides two fingers into her with relative ease and struggles to hold back a smirk when she grinds down onto him. 

 

It doesn’t take long for her to finish- not like this, not when it’s been so long- not when they clearly want each other so bad . It embarrasses her not to be able to hold out for longer, he can tell, but a bizarre feeling of pride wells up in his chest every time he’s able to get her to finish so fast like this. With enough thrusts of his fingers against the right spot and enough fervent flicks of his tongue against her clit, she cums, tightening around his fingers and arching her back. Her hands yank at his hair in a way that draws a moan out of him and has his charcoal eyes rolling back. He keeps touching her until her body falls limp on the bed.

 

Seconds later, he pulls his fingers out of her, sits up on his knees, and wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand. 

 

“I missed you, too,” He snarks with a smirk on his face, to which Riza averts her eyes and smiles.

 

“I did miss you and your mouth,” She relents as Roy shrugs his shirt off and lays it on the edge of the bed. Roy reaches into his back pocket for the condom he brought, only to see that her face falls when he does. “You don’t have to…”

 

Roy raises an eyebrow at that, especially when she trails off. She can’t possibly be referring to the condom, can she? Every single time they’ve had sex since they’ve been together, they’ve used a condom. There’s no way .

 

“Don’t have to what ?”

 

Riza shakes her head.

 

“Never mind.”

 

Roy has a few questions, but decides to ignore them, at least for now. Instead of asking, he discards his pants and boxers and rolls the condom over himself. Then, he’s on top of her, pressing a kiss against her forehead as he slides his cock up and down the length of her folds before he’s thrusting into her. A noise leaves both of them as he fills her to the brim, intermingling in the limited space between their lips along with their breaths.

 

“Riza,” He sighs against her lips as his eyes flutter shut from the ecstasy and bliss of it all. “God, Riza , I missed you so much.”

 

“I missed you too,” She replies, her voice tinged with an edge of desperation. “Roy… I love you.”

 

“I love you, too,” The validation that she needs him just as much as he needs her, even after the last few weeks, is everything . “So much.”

 

He can still taste her on his tongue, and the remnants of her drive him crazy. He rolls his hips against hers and buries his face in her neck. He’s tempted, for a moment, to leave hickeys on the column of her throat before he thinks better of it- the turtleneck that she uses to cover them up after the fact is still in the dirty laundry. He presses their lips together and revels in the way she wraps her toned arms around his neck to pull him closer. 

 

The thrusts he draws are long, but sloppy, though Riza seems to love them anyway. She reaches down, past her full breasts and the relaxed contour of her stomach to massage her clit with two fingers. The fact that she’s chasing a second orgasm eggs him on, and he picks up the pace to fuck her harder; deeper than before. Despite it all, they still manage to kiss until it feels like their lips are molding into one another. A little bit of their mixed saliva drips out of the corners of their mouths. Neither of them bother wiping away. 

 

Between kisses, Riza pants and whines and rocks against him; something debauched and needy that she does with him, and only with him. He’ll value it always, knowing that no one else has ever seen- and never will see- this side of her the way he does. It’s that thought that sends him over the edge. 

 

They cum together with Riza breaking their kiss to gasp for air. Her walls tighten and constrict around his cock to milk it for everything that it has. Finally, the afterglow of their orgasms wash over them. Roy pulls out of Riza and rolls over onto the mattress so that he doesn’t accidentally crush her with his weight.

 

A few moments of comfortable silence pass. Roy takes the condom off and ties it into a knot to keep it from leaking into the trash can before tossing it in. 

 

“I’m starving,” Riza complains between heavy breaths, collapsing all the way back onto the bed. 

 

Her golden hair spills out like a halo across the pillow, glowing faintly in the dim light of the bedside lamp. A cute pout takes over her lips. It makes Roy’s heart skip a beat, even now, after all these years. 

 

Roy laughs at the dramatic tone in her voice, shaking his head as he stands from the bed and pulls on his boxers.

 

“I’ll go get that pie,” He offers.

 

Then, he retreats to the kitchen, his bare feet padding against the creaky wooden floors. The apartment is so old that every step is accompanied by a groan from the boards. Roy frowns at the noise. With every year that passes without Riza moving to somewhere nicer, he hates this place a little more- the drafty windows, the chipped paint, the constant hum of the radiator that only half-works. It’s not that Riza complains, but she deserves better. She deserves a life where she isn’t stuck in a crumbling apartment in one of Central’s roughest neighborhoods, spending most of her nights alone. Instead, she should be living with him at the Fuhrer’s estate, sleeping on sheets with thread counts in the thousands and surrounded by luxury. 

 

As he opens the fridge, his thoughts drift elsewhere. He pulls out the pie, grabs a spoon for her and a fork for himself, but his mind lingers on the engagement ring tucked away miles from here, hidden in the nightstand of his bedroom. He bought it so many years ago, the day he was promoted to colonel, certain that they would build a life together in the near future. The plan had seemed so simple back then; climb the ranks, change the laws, propose, and finally live openly- get married, maybe even start a family of their own if they’d done enough healing. 

 

Now, he’s Fuhrer, and the ring still sits untouched. It’s probably collecting dust by now where it sits in the dark blue jewelry box. The fraternization laws are still in place, the risks that come with their relationship higher than ever. The thought weighs on him as he heads back to the bedroom with the pie and silverware in hand, trying to shake off the melancholy. He should be grateful for this moment; one of the rare normal days they’ve had together since his promotion. Riza finally seems to be over whatever had been troubling her after her annual physical, and he wants to enjoy this sliver of normalcy before things go to shit again. 

 

Forcing a smile, he enters the bedroom. 

 

“Welcome back,” Riza greets him, now dressed in clean panties and an oversized t-shirt that Roy left behind at her apartment god knows how long ago.

 

“Delivery for my favorite girl in the world,” He announces while triumphantly holding up the pie.

 

Riza sits up and sits up on the bed with her legs folded. Her face lights up as he sets the dessert between them. However, when she takes a spoonful and slides it into her mouth, her expression twists. She swallows with visible effort, gagging as she slaps a hand over her lips.

 

“Riza?” Roy’s brow furrows. He sits next to her on the bed and places a hand on her cheek, which has lost all its color. “Are you okay?”

 

“I don’t... I don’t think I like it anymore,” She says, turning her head away like the mere sight of the dessert is enough to make her nauseous. “God, the curd tastes like dirt and the meringue tastes like eggs… Ugh.”

 

Roy frowns and takes a bite himself, wondering if it’s gone bad- or maybe the patisserie changed the recipe? The subtle tartness of the lemon curd, the airy meringue, the buttery crust… It’s perfect, tasting like it always has. He sets the fork down and stares at her.

 

“Lemon meringue pie has been your favorite dessert since we were kids,” He says slowly, reminded of the day a couple weeks ago where she called her favorite takeout place ‘disgusting’. It’s just so… Weird, and he can’t quite put together what’s going on or why it’s bothering him so much. “And now you just… Don’t like it anymore?”

 

Riza shrugs, her expression unusually sheepish. 

 

“I guess not.”

 

He opens his mouth to respond, but then the pieces start clicking into place. 

 

The food aversions. 

 

The nausea. 

 

The bodily changes.

 

The mood swings… 

 

On top of all of the other symptoms, Roy suddenly realizes that he can’t remember the last time that he’s seen a sanitary pad in Riza’s bathroom trash can or heard her complain about period cramps. It’s been… At least a couple of months. As the cogs in his head turn, his stomach is in knots. 

 

“Wait. When was the last time you had your period?”

 

Her lips part slightly, but no real answer comes. 

 

“Um…”

 

She glances away and twiddles with her thumbs, and that’s all the confirmation he needs. His heart pounds in his throat as he blurts out the next words, louder and less graceful than he wants them to be.

 

“Are you pregnant!?”

 

Riza freezes, her face pale. She hesitates for a moment, her hands fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. Finally, she nods. 

 

“Yes.”

 

Roy stares at her, the weight of her admission hitting him like a fucking freight train . A thousand thoughts race through his mind; the precariousness of his position as Fuhrer, the potential fallout if anyone discovers their relationship, their baby , whether or not he even deserves this after all of the people he’s killed. He’s terrified, shellshocked by the enormity of it all.

 

“You’re really pregnant, Riza?” His voice is softer now, laced with disbelief.

 

“I am, and… I want to keep it,” She whispers. Her eyes are trained on him, pleading and sweet and panicked . It’s clear that she’s waiting for an answer; for some sort of indication as to how he feels about her admission. “So… What do you think?”

 

What does he think? He thinks he’s scared out of his mind. He thinks this shouldn’t have happened- not yet, not while the laws still tie their hands, not when they’ve been so careful to use protection every single time. He thinks that he’s scared to try to raise a child when his own parents left him before he was old enough to even remember their faces. But as he looks at her again, he thinks about something else; this could be the start of all he’s ever wanted, and whether or not they wanted it to happen right now , it is happening- and she will remember his reaction to this news for the rest of their lives. 

 

“I think,” He says, and then pauses to swallow the lump of anxiety that’s formed in his throat. “I’m really happy.”

 

Riza’s head snaps up, her eyes wide. 

 

“You’re… Happy about this?”

 

“Of course I am,” He lets out a shaky laugh as he pulls her into his arms. “You’re the love of my life, and we’re going to start a family together. I’m so happy.”

 

Her breath hitches, and for a moment, she leans into him, her head resting on his shoulder.

 

 “I wasn’t sure if you wanted kids.... Especially right now.”

 

“I didn’t know if they were in the cards for us,” He admits, cupping her cheek with one hand. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t want them. And it’s already happened, so… We’ll make it work.” 

 

“You’re not scared?” She questions.

 

“Of course I’m scared, but that doesn’t mean I’m not happy. So get that thought out of your head, alright?” Roy runs a reassuring hand over her hair, though whether it’s an attempt to calm Riza down or to calm himself down, he isn’t quite sure. “The last thing you need is to stress yourself out over this any more than I’m sure you already have.”

 

“Alright,” She nods in agreement, her voice steadier now.

 

“How far along are you?” 

 

“Almost two months.”

 

Roy pauses. Did she not test after missing her first period? Isn’t that what women normally do? Or maybe she didn’t realize?

 

“When did you find out?”

 

Riza freezes, her breath hitching. Roy’s stomach sinks as realization dawns. 

 

“ Riza ,” He asks again, more stern this time. “How long have you known?”

 

She nervously scratches at her wrist, avoiding his gaze. 

 

“You remember when I had my annual physical?”

 

“That was weeks ago,” He exclaims and pulls away from her. The pieces fall into place- the heartbroken expression she wore after returning from her appointment, the gut wrenching sobs she cried while in his arms later that night, the distance she’s put between them since then- and he feels a pang of guilt. She’s been carrying this secret alone, and he hadn’t even noticed until this morning. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

 

“I wanted to,” She softly argues. “But I didn’t know how. And then, before I knew it, so much time passed, and I was afraid you’d be…”

 

“What? Mad?” Roy shakes his head. “Riza, I could never be mad at you. I just wish you would have told me sooner…”

 

There’s silence, and then-

 

“What are we gonna do?” Riza whispers, tears falling from her honey-hued eyes.

 

Roy presses a kiss to her hair, pulling her close again. 

 

“I don’t know yet, but I promise, I’ll take care of us. You don’t have to worry about a thing. I'm not going anywhere, Riza.”

 

Silence falls over them again.

 

For a while, they stay sat on the bed together, Riza held tightly in Roy’s arms- and even though Roy is scared out of his mind, he can’t help but be excited for what’s to come. All he has to do is come up with a plan to make this work.

Chapter 5

It’s two days later when Roy signs the bill to abolish fraternization laws. 

 

They’re in one of the many meeting rooms at central command, Roy sat at the head of the round table that’s in the center. Instead of standing by his side, upon his insistence, Riza is sitting beside him in a chair. Jean Havoc stands in the corner of the room, leaning back against the wall and smoking a cigarette. Kain Fuery, Heymans Breda, and Vato Falman are sat across from Roy at the table, listening in as Roy reads the proposal to them.

 

“Alright, it’s time to move on to the next part of the Amestrian Armed Forces Reform Act… Bill number a hundred twelve; abolishment of fraternization restrictions,” He says, his voice monotone.

 

They hadn’t planned on even touching the fraternization laws for months after his promotion to Fuhrer, but given the circumstances, they've come to the conclusion in private that it needed to happen as soon as possible. Riza just hopes that their team, who has become a trusted group of advisors since Roy’s promotion, are kind enough to support them despite the sudden change of plans. 

 

“Wait, I thought we weren’t going to discuss changing the fraternization laws until at least two months after your inauguration date,” Falman lightly objects, but Roy dismisses him.

 

“It’s unimportant. The sooner we get all of this done, the better. I’m tired of having to sit here every day and go through all these bills to fix the shit that Fuhrer Bradley fucked up,” Roy argues. “Section one, title, this bill shall be known as the Abolishment of Military Fraternization Act. Section two, purpose, this act is to-”

 

“We know what it’s for,” Havoc grumbles. “We also know it’s a terrible idea to do this right now. What’s the deal? You want the public to shit all over you after everything else has been going so smoothly? We’ve been going through all these bills nonstop for weeks, why don’t you let the ones you’ve passed so far breathe?”

 

Surprisingly, Roy ignores him and keeps going. Riza is suddenly struck by a pang of guilt and embarrassment. The ability for the Fuhrer to sign bills into laws without anyone else in the government having to approve is something that she and Roy despised when Fuhrer Bradley was still in power. Now, they’re using it to their own advantage. 

 

“-to remove outdated restrictions on personal relationships between members of the Amestrian Armed Forces, fostering a professional, inclusive, and equitable military environment that respects the rights and dignity of all personnel.”

 

Riza cringes, crossing her arms over her chest in discomfort. This really isn’t going well. The next person to object is Fuery. 

 

“I understand your intentions, sir, but isn’t this sort of… Sudden?” Fuery gently argues, tapping a pencil against the table. 

 

“Yeah? So, what?” Roy retorts, determination written across his face. “I’m failing to understand the problem here.”

 

“I don’t think people are gonna like this, man,” Breda says, leaning back in his chair and scratching the back of his head. “I mean, the military’s already complicated enough right now. Can you imagine the mess this could cause? Officers dating subordinates, chain of command conflicts- it’s gonna get messy.”

 

“Not to mention the retired veterans or the people who got caught fraternizing and spent years in jail over it,” Falman chimes in, his tone measured. “They’re bound to feel slighted that this wasn’t done sooner. And then there’s the conservative crowd- no doubt they’ll see this as unprofessional. They already don’t like you since you’re so young.”

 

Roy leans forward, resting his elbows on the table and clasping his gloved hands together. 

 

“I value and respect your opinions, and normally I’d listen to you and let it go, but I’m going to have to pull rank here,” Roy sternly responds. “This needs to get signed today, so that’s what’s going to happen. I’m signing it. That’s final.”

 

“Alright, am I the only one who’s gonna be honest here?” Havoc complains, frustratedly throwing his hands up in the air. Ashes fall to the floor from the cigarette that’s held between his fingers. His steely eyes flicker between Roy and Riza. “Did someone finally find out about you two fucking or what? What’s so urgent that you have to turn the entire Amestrian military upside down today, Mustang?”

 

Roy turns to Riza, his expression measured.

“Do you want to tell them?”

 

Riza sighs, her shoulders slumping slightly as she nods. These people have been her comrades for years, standing by her through battle and beyond. They deserve the truth- at least enough of it to explain Roy’s sudden push for a decision that, to them, feels unnecessary and reckless. 

 

“What I’m about to say stays in this room,” She explains. All four men lean forward in anticipation, clearly interested in what she's going to say. “I’m pregnant- and before any of you ask, yes , it’s his. I’m sure you all know, if Havoc’s little outburst was anything to go by, but we’ve been together for the better part of a decade. We’re probably going to have to get married soon due to… Well, the baby.”

 

“Oh,” Breda says after a beat, his tone as casual as if someone had just told him the weather forecast. He glances over at Roy. “Yeah, you hurry up and sign that shit, Mustang. Sooner the better.”

 

Roy smirks as he signs the paper with a flick of his wrist.

 

“Told you it needed to be signed today.”

 

Fuery’s face lights up with an uncharacteristic grin as he processes the news.  

 

“That’s so exciting!” He beams, standing up from his seat and walking over to Riza. “You know, I’ve always wanted to be a dad. I’m actually sort of jealous, but mostly just excited. How far along are you? I couldn’t even tell you were pregnant!”

 

“About two months,” Riza answers, her tone softening at his enthusiasm.

 

“Let me know if you need anything at all, okay?” Fuery offers with a smile.

 

“You know,” Falman says, leaning back as if in deep thought, “I never imagined there’d be a little Mustang or Hawkeye running around, but that actually sounds kind of nice. Could liven up the place.”

 

“What, like the kid’s going to be here that often?” Breda says.

 

Havoc takes a long drag of his cigarette. His eyes suddenly widen as realization strikes, and he hurriedly stubs it out in the ashtray. 

 

“Shit. My bad, Hawkeye- I shouldn’t be smoking around you now that you’re pregnant,” He glances at her sheepishly before continuing. “Anyway, you’re not gonna quit working to stay home with the kid, are you? You’re a general now. Losing you would be a huge blow.”

 

“Oh,” Riza pauses at the question. She feels everyone’s eyes on her, expectant, waiting for an answer. She’s been so preoccupied with the pregnancy itself that she hasn’t bothered to stop and think about what they’re actually going to do when the baby arrives; about what comes next. “I… We haven’t thought that far ahead.”

 

“Is it even safe for her to bring the baby here?” Falman asks. “Not to kill the celebratory mood, but when the two of you get married, things are going to change, and logistically speaking… Having the Fuhrer, his wife, and his child all in central command where they can easily be found may be a bad idea.”

 

“What do you mean, Falman?” Fuery questions.

 

“He means that if someone wanted to assassinate the Fuhrer or take his wife and kid hostage, having them all in one well-known building would make it pretty easy,” Havoc frowns.

 

“Are you guys implying that I wouldn’t be able to protect my own wife and child?” Roy complains, his voice low. “That’s ridiculous.”

 

“No, but I am implying that you’d be hesitant to scorch the earth with a potential assailant while your wife and newborn child are in the room,” Havoc answers. “Not that it’s my business, but the smartest thing for the two of you to do over the next few months is to get married before anyone finds out about the baby, and then get looking for a nanny or a daycare center.”

 

The room falls silent for a moment. Riza glances at Roy, whose expression softens as he reaches for her hand beneath the table. He gives it a reassuring squeeze before turning back to his team.

 

“We’ll figure it out,” He says.

 

“And in the meantime,” Fuery grins. “We’ll be here to help.”

 

Riza smiles faintly, her heart lighter than it’s been since she found out about the baby. It’s not a perfect situation, but with this team, she knows they’ll find a way to make it work.

 

“Now, let’s discuss the rest of the bills that are on the table for today…”

~

 

Hours pass after the bill is signed. Since Roy’s promotion to Fuhrer, a local radio station has taken to broadcasting frequent updates on his policies and decisions. The news of his latest bills spreads quickly, but it’s obvious which one has earned them the most attention. By noon, the station airs a detailed report, and by the time Riza hears the announcement, there are already reporters gathering outside Central Command.

 

When she and Roy are ready to leave for the day, they find the front steps swarming with journalists.

 

Standing near a tall glass window inside the building, the two of them stare out at the scene below. The reporters hold notebooks, pens, and microphones, their excitement palpable even from a distance. The low murmur of their voices carries faintly through the glass.

 

“Alright,” Roy begins, his voice calm but laced with determination. His charcoal eyes narrow slightly, his expression thoughtful- the look he always wears when he’s working through a plan, trying to figure something out. “You know they’re going to hound us the second we step out there.”

 

Riza shifts with anxiety, her hand instinctively brushing against the holster at her side. 

 

“What’s your plan?” She asks, her tone wary but trusting.

 

Roy glances at her, his eyes softening for a moment. 

 

“I think I can use this to our advantage. Win the public over. They’ll love this, if I spin it right, which I think I can,” Roy reassures her, confident as ever. “I won’t tell them about the baby, though. Can you follow my lead here?”

 

Riza nods, a small smile taking over her face. 

 

“Do you even need to ask?”

 

“Let’s go,” He says, and with that, she follows him out of the building.

 

The moment they step outside, they’re swarmed. Reporters push forward, their voices overlapping as they fire off questions. It’s a cacophony of noise, and Riza finds herself tensing, her hand hovering near her holster as a precaution. She steps slightly behind Roy, who stands tall and composed, exuding the kind of confidence that commands attention.

 

“Sir!” The reporter that’s managed to get to the front of the crowd speaks, her voice loud and booming as she approaches Roy. “Everyone has been talking about the bill you signed today to abolish the fraternization laws that bar members of the military from entering romantic relationships with one another. Would you be willing to share your motivation behind that decision?”

 

“I would love to,” Roy answers, much to Riza’s surprise. She honestly expected him to dodge the question somehow, but no. He’s going to play a charming, likable persona to the public until they’re satisfied- something he’s gotten really good at over the last few years. “As I’m sure everyone agrees, it’s important for a Fuhrer to set an example of stability. Now that I’ve taken on this role, it’s only natural for me to start thinking about settling down and starting a family. It’s the proper thing to do.”

 

“Right,” The interviewer nods. “There’s been speculation for a long time about why you’re still single, sir. Would this happen to be related to the fraternization laws?”

 

“It is. I’ve always been cautious about relationships. Over the years, I’ve seen people in the military suffer heartbreak or betrayal because they trusted the wrong person. One of my closest friends once dated a woman he thought was a civilian, only to find out she was part of the group responsible for that uprising a while back. She tried to use him to gain military secrets and even attempted to kill us both,” Roy explains. 

 

Everything that comes out of his mouth, while not entirely lies, is full of twists and turns made to make himself look better.

 

Gasps ripple through the crowd, and the reporter furiously scribbles notes. 

 

“What a terrifying experience,” She comments.

 

“It was,” Roy continues. “After seeing that, I decided the only people I could trust were those who understood the demands and sacrifices of military life. That’s why I believe relationships within the military should be allowed, because no one understands the burdens we bear better than we do.”

 

“What an interesting perspective! Do you have someone in mind within your command? There have been rumors about you and Riza Hawkeye circulating for a long time,” The reporter speaks as if Riza isn’t standing right there. 

 

Roy pauses dramatically, then smiles as he turns to Riza. Before she can react, he wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her close. She lets out a small gasp, her eyes widening as she looks up at him. His gaze softens as it lands on her, filled with nothing but adoration.

 

“My lovely general here has stood by me through everything,” He says, warmth radiating from every word. “She’s the most trustworthy person I’ve ever met. I can’t imagine my life without her.”

 

The crowd erupts with questions, but one voice cuts through the noise. 

 

“So this is confirmation that you and your aide, General Hawkeye, are in a romantic relationship?”

 

Roy nods without hesitation. 

 

“It is,” He says simply. “And in the coming months, we’re going to get married. Keep an ear out for the wedding date.”

 

Riza’s heart skips a beat. Is he really doing this? How is he so calm right now? And will this really work to keep the public and the rest of the military off of their backs?

 

The crowd surges, but one reporter shouts over the rest. They’re all frantic, scribbling notes and trying to push past each other to get to Roy and Riza. 

 

“Aren’t you worried about accusations that you signed this bill for personal reasons?”

 

“I understand the concern, but this bill isn’t just about me. We’ve lost too many good soldiers because of those laws- demotions, retirements, even arrests. It was a rule that punished loyalty and love instead of rewarding professionalism. If military personnel can maintain their roles, what they do in their personal lives is their business. I stand by my decision wholeheartedly.”

 

“Well, sir, we also wanted to ask-”

 

“Sorry to cut you short, but we should be going now,” Roy interjects, grabbing Riza by the hand and pulling her away from the crowd. “We have a reservation to catch.”

 

Taking Riza’s hand, he guides her down the steps and through the crowd, weaving through the journalists who are still clamoring for more answers. They slip into his car, and Roy quickly pulls away, leaving the noise behind.

 

“Do we actually have a reservation, or was that just an excuse to get them off your back?” Riza asks, slightly out of breath from a mixture of anxiety and the strain it took to dodge all of the people in front of the building.

 

“Oh, that was a complete lie,” Roy laughs his hands steady on the wheel as he drives. “But I was thinking, since we’re out in the open anyways, we might as well go on a date tonight.”

 

“A date?” Riza questions, tilting her head.

 

There’s been a few times where they’ve been able to sneak to the outskirts of the city late at night and go on a picnic or a walk in the park, but Riza can count those times on one hand- and aside from that, they’ve never been on a ‘real’ date. No fancy restaurants, no shopping sprees, no visiting art museums or hopping between bars with their hands intertwined.

 

So, Roy asking her on a date is… Unusual. But, considering that he just outed their relationship to the entirety of Amestris, she supposes she’s not against the idea of going on a date and potentially being seen together. The more she thinks about it, the more she finds the idea thrilling .

 

“Yeah, a date,” He answers casually, though she doesn’t miss the blush that lightly dusts across his cheeks. “A real date. I thought I’d treat you and the baby to a good meal.”

 

Riza's heart flutters at the mention of the baby. Over the last couple days, they've been so busy trying to figure out what they're going to do in light of the news that she hasn't had that much time to think about the baby itself. Roy glances to her stomach, a warm smile taking over his lips. He's actually happy about this. The subtle reminder has Riza letting out a sigh of relief. 

 

“Okay. Sure."

 

“Where do you wanna go? I was thinking we could stop by your place- you have enough of my clothes there that I could change into something decent. We’ll dress up and go somewhere nice.”

 

“Somewhere… Nice?”

 

A million ideas run through Riza’s head. She can’t remember ever having gone ‘somewhere nice’, as Roy put it, and he expects her to choose?

 

“Don’t you have to have a reservation for that sort of thing?” 

 

“Fuhrers don’t need reservations,” Roy shrugs, his eyes on the road. “But if you'd rather stay in or something-”

 

“No, no, I'd rather go on this date of yours,” Riza interjects with a small, nervous smile. “Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to go on a date with you without having to worry about being seen? Like a normal couple?”

 

“Then… Where do you want to go? Or should I choose?”

 

“Well, Rebecca and Havoc have said really good things about this fondue place near her house if you’re so inclined…”

 

Chapter 6

They arrive at the restaurant just over an hour later, having stopped at Riza’s apartment to change clothes. Roy glances at her as they approach the entrance, his breath catching slightly. She’s wearing a long blue dress with long, flowy sleeves, silver earrings, and a matching necklace that Roy bought her a few years back. Her hair is loose for once, a few golden strands framing her face. She looks gorgeous as always, and Roy makes a mental note to tell her as much before the night is over- that is, if the rest of his plan goes well. 

 

He, too, has dressed the part for their first ‘real’ date. He’s wearing a pair of slacks that he left behind at her apartment once, a white button up that he knows is her favorite to sleep in, a tie that they’ve used for more unsavory activities on a handful of occasions, a coat- and, of course, his gloves. He doesn’t feel like he looks nearly as gorgeous as Riza does, but he hopes that it’s enough to make tonight feel special; the two of them, dressed up and going to a nice restaurant for a date rather than for a stuffy military event, not having to hide anymore.

 

The restaurant itself is nice enough, and not an unfamiliar environment to Roy, but he can tell that Riza is slightly intimidated by it. The soft hum of classical music flowing from a record player fills the air, mingling with absentminded chatter and the occasional clink of glasses. The lighting is a reddish hue, casted by oddly colored sconces that line the walls. Each table is made of wood and has burners installed in the center for the fondue pots, and the faint aroma of melted cheese and rich chocolate wafts through the air.

 

The host is quick to recognize Roy, bowing with wide eyes and ushering them toward a secluded section of the restaurant while uttering unnecessary apologies about not knowing he would be coming tonight. Their private booth is tucked away behind a small sheer curtain, offering them at least a semblance of privacy. Roy feels a rush of relief as they slide into the booth, sitting close enough that their knees brush under the table. 

 

The waitress hands them menus, which both of them stare at, perplexed. Roy is accustomed to fancy dinners by now- he’s had to go to way too many of them for work- but he’s never been to a restaurant that serves exclusively fondue and none of the menu options seem particularly appealing. There’s breads and vegetables dipped in cheese, meats dipped in pots of boiling broth, marshmallows and fruit dipped in different kinds of chocolate, and more. It seems like a lot of work to have to cook your own food, especially when he’s going to be paying an exorbitant price for it all (something he can infer by the lack of price labels on the menu), but Riza seems happy as she flicks through the options, and that’s all that really matters.

 

The wedding ring he’s been wanting to propose to her with for the better part of a decade sits in the pocket of his coat, waiting to be used. He isn’t sure when he should do it or exactly what he should say even though he’s rehearsed a script in the mirror about twenty times since he found out about the baby. 

 

“What do you think you’re going to get?” Riza questions, effectively interrupting Roy’s thoughts. 

 

He nearly jumps, feeling like he’s been caught, but he’s able to gather his composure just enough to answer her without raising any red flags.

 

“I have literally no idea. This menu is huge… And confusing.”

 

“I’m glad I’m not the only one who was thinking that,” Riza laughs. “Why don’t we get the three-course dinner for two?”

 

Roy looks down at the menu to see what’s available with the dinner. It seems like a sensible mix with a little bit of everything, and most importantly, Riza doesn’t seem to think it ‘sounds disgusting’, which is a rarity given her recent aversions.

 

“Sure.”

 

Shortly after, the waitress comes by to pour them glasses full of sparkling water and take their orders. When she leaves, Roy turns to Riza and asks-

 

“So, you have a doctor’s appointment scheduled to check on the baby soon, don’t you?” The words come out in a low whisper, carefully hushed so that no one can hear them.

 

“Oh my God,” Riza gasps. “Roy, that’s tomorrow . I completely forgot.”

 

“What time?”

 

“Noon,” She answers.

 

“Perfect,” He says as if it’s easy, but in reality, he knows he’s going to have to beg the rest of his team to take over his work. “In fact, we can both take off the whole day.”

 

“What? You don’t have to do that-” She starts, but he cuts her off with a shake of his head and a wave of his hand.

 

“I know, but I want to be there to hear any news about the baby first hand… If you’re okay with it,” Roy explains. “I get that it’s private-”

 

“Of course I’m okay with you coming to the appointment, I just don’t get why we need the entire day off for that?”

 

“Well, we need to get your stuff moved into my house. I’ll order Armstrong to come help us- he’s good at keeping a secret, and the rest of the team will be too busy picking up our work,” He answers, to which Riza looks at him like he’s just grown another head. 

 

“...You want me to move in with you? That’s sudden.”

 

Roy raises an eyebrow.

 

“Of course I do. Do you not want to?”

 

“No, I do, I just don’t want you to feel obligated to rush and take care of everything all at once just because I’m pregnant…” Riza trails off with a frown, averting her gaze. “I’ve been coming to terms with everything over the last few days, but there’s a part of me that’s still really… Well, embarrassed and upset about the circumstances. I never wanted us to settle down because you felt like you had to do it, Roy.”

 

“I’ve been wanting to get you out of that shitty apartment of yours since we moved to central, anyway,” Roy softly argues. “I’m not doing any of this out of obligation, or because I feel like I ‘have to’, so don’t even start thinking like that. I know you can take care of yourself, Riza, but I want to take care of you- at least a little bit.”

 

“Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page,” Riza says with a sigh of relief. Her frown rises, turning into a small smile. “But for the record, I actually don’t mind my apartment, thank you very much.”

 

“I know you don’t mind it,” Roy says. Not once in the many years they’ve spent in central has he heard her complain about her apartment, but he hates it because he knows she deserves better, especially now. “But you deserve the best. You both do.”

 

“You’re too much. You’ve been so sappy since I told you,” Riza laughs, shaking her head at him. She takes a sip of her sparkling water, and then continues. “You’re not going to start coddling me now that I’m pregnant, are you? I think if you get too overbearing, I might have to shoot you down.”

 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Roy scoffs. As much as he’d love to just take care of everything and let Riza relax, she’s never been the type to tolerate that kind of treatment, and he doubts even a pregnancy would change that. “I want to do things like this for you because I’ve been waiting to do them for most of our lives. I’m not going to insult you by, as you put it, ‘coddling’.”

 

At that, Riza seems satisfied, dropping the subject.

 

By the time the food arrives, Roy is starving, and he can tell by the impatient look on Riza’s face that she is too. Honestly, he’s not sure why it took so long considering that most of it is just raw ingredients, but he doesn’t dare complain to the waitress who he knows has no part in whatever’s happening in the kitchen. 

 

The waitress sets up three hot pots on the table; one full of melted cheddar cheese, one full of a rich savory broth, and the other full of dark chocolate. The accompanying plates are… Underwhelming, to say the least. Thin slices of bread, a small assortment of seasonal vegetables, bite-sized portions of meat, and a few strawberries and marshmallows for dessert. It’s hardly enough food to feed one person, let alone a fully grown man and his pregnant girlfriend. Roy frowns at the spread, even more so when the waitress explains that the meat needs to be cooked for a minimum of five minutes in the broth before she walks away. 

 

“I didn’t realize it until just now, but I’m so hungry I think I’m going to puke,” Riza complains, her face scrunching up.

“I bet I could cook this faster than that stupid pot,” Roy says, flexing his glove-covered fingers with a mischievous glint in his charcoal eyes. 

 

“I swear to god, if you don’t put those gloves away right now, I will walk out of this restaurant so fast. The last thing we need is to set the table on fire.”

 

“Alright, alright,” Roy takes his gloves off with a chuckle and shoves them in the pocket of his coat, right beside the ring box. He considers pulling out the ring, to go ahead and propose now, but then he decides against it. This restaurant, while fancy in atmosphere, has not been the greatest experience so far given the food and he would hate to propose anywhere less than perfect after all the time he’s spent dreaming of proposing to her. “I just don’t want you to get sick at the table, that’s all.”

 

“I won’t,” She reassures him.

 

The conversation dies back down as they begin cooking their meal, the quiet sound of the pots bubbling in front of them. As Riza tears through the fresh strawberries like she’s starved, Roy sits there, wondering just how he’s going to go about the proposal now that his original plan has fallen through…

 

~

 

They leave the restaurant about half an hour later with Roy visibly perturbed as they get into his car. His stomach growls in protest. They finished the small platters of food that were set in front of them within fifteen minutes. The hole that’s burning in his wallet fills him with indescribable disappointment- he’s able to afford large expenses like this on a whim now that he’s Fuhrer, but the fact that he just paid thousands of cens for a toddler’s portion of food that ruined his long-awaited proposal is driving him up the wall.

 

As he drives on the streets of central city, he taps his fingers against the steering wheel, trying to figure out how he’s going to salvage this. He can’t possibly propose in the car, can he? No, she deserves better than that, but he had his heart set on doing this tonight. They’ve talked casually about getting married, especially now that they have a baby due in seven months from now, but he needs to hear her say yes- needs to slip the ring that’s been waiting to be used for years onto her finger- to see her face light up with joy and relief after everything they’ve been through to get here. 

 

He can’t possibly expect her to want to go to another restaurant, especially this late… His gaze lands on his watch. It’s already past nine, and most of the nicer restaurants are probably closing. His frustration grows with each passing moment, the weight of the ring box in his coat pocket a constant reminder of the evening’s derailment.

 

“Roy?” Riza softly starts, a nervous look in her honey-hued eyes.

 

“Yeah?” He asks, gaze flickering over to her.

 

“It’s, well-” Weirdly enough, she hesitates, staring down into her lap. Even in the dimly moonlit car, he can tell that there’s a small blush dusting across her cheeks. “It’s just…”

 

“What is it, Riza?”

 

“I know we just ate, but I’m still hungry,” She finally admits.

 

“Thank god you said something. I am, too,” Roy says with a small sigh. “I can not believe I just paid that much money for a couple slices of bread, some vegetables, a handful of meat cubes, and strawberries and marshmallows.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Riza murmurs, though her tone carries a hint of amusement. 

 

“Well, it’s not your fault that Catalina and Havoc have shit taste in restaurants. But I really should make it illegal for them to charge that much for that little food,” Roy jokes as he turns a corner. “Why don’t we get something else? Most of the nicer places are going to be closing right about now, but there’s probably still some fast food places open.”

 

“Fine, but I’m paying for it this time,” Riza insists, to which Roy objects with a shake of his head.

 

“No, you’re not.”

 

She turns her head to shoot a pointed glare in his direction.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Roy.”

 

“I’m dead serious,” He counters with a stubborn smile. 

 

“Fine, but at least let me pick something cheap,” Riza begrudgingly agrees while crossing her arms over her chest. 

 

“Whatever you want.”

 

“How about Panda House?”

 

“I thought Panda House sounded ‘disgusting’ to you right now,” He smirks.

 

“It did a few weeks ago, but I’ve been having an ungodly craving for acidic food, and they have quick pickled cucumbers.”

 

Roy blinks, glancing over at her and raising an eyebrow. Panda House has always served complimentary pickled cucumbers, and Riza has always despised them… Until now, at least. 

 

“Don’t you hate those?” 

 

“They sound good right now,” She shrugs. 

 

“Okay, we’ll go to Panda House,” He agrees. It’s been a while since they’ve had a normal night where they’ve gotten to enjoy Panda House together like old times, so the idea makes him happy. Better yet, if he can convince her to go somewhere scenic with him to eat it, his proposal plan can still be salvaged. He just has to play his cards right. “And we’ll take it somewhere and eat there so we don’t have to fuck around with juggling takeout boxes in the car.”

 

“What, like my apartment?” Riza suggests.

 

“No, I’m about tired of that place,” Roy dismisses the idea, and then before he can overthink it, another idea clicks. “Why don’t we go back to your dad’s old estate?”

 

Riza’s brow furrows, her expression clouding with uncertainty. 

 

“Why do you want to go there ? We haven’t been there since…”

 

Her voice trails off as they pull into the Panda House parking lot. She doesn’t need to finish the sentence for Roy to understand what she means. The last time they’d visited her father’s estate was shortly after the war, when they’d cleaned it up with the intention of selling it. Riza had never gone through with the sale, though, and the property has been left untouched for years, a preserved relic of their earliest memories.

 

He parks the car and turns to her, his gaze soft. 

 

“It’s where we first met, you know,” Roy explains. “I’m feeling nostalgic tonight. It’s about time we make a good memory there, don’t you think? To replace the last few.”

 

“Okay,” Riza agrees, a small smile spreading across her face. “If you really want to, we can go.”

 

~

 

After they get the takeout, they make the long drive to Berthold Hawkeye’s estate in comfortable silence. By the time they arrive, the food is lukewarm, but neither of them care as Roy spreads a blanket from the trunk of his car across the grass in front of the house and lays out the boxes. 

 

They sit across from each other on the large blanket, opening their food and digging in with the plastic silverware. The air is warm but comfortable as a gentle breeze blows. Fireflies dance lazily around the overgrown grass of the Hawkeye estate, lighting up the night with their soft yellow glow. Stars are scattered across the navy blue sky above them. It’s much clearer here than in central, the stars and the crescent moon in the sky more visible from the lack of light pollution.

 

Riza sits cross legged on a blanket spread out over the grass, her takeout box sat beside her, full of pickled cucumbers, fried rice, and teriyaki beef. She looks serene in the soft glow of the starlight, her golden hair catching the faint light of a firefly that hovers nearby. Roy watches her between bites, his heart full in a way he’s never been able to put into words.

 

“It’s been years since I’ve been back here,” Riza observes and turns her head just enough to scan the dusty structure of her childhood home and the woods that surround it. “It feels… Smaller now, than it did back then.”

 

Roy hums in agreement, though his gaze remains on her. 

 

“It does, doesn’t it?” He finally says. He slips a hand into his pocket, his fingers brushing against his gloves, and then against the velvet of the ring box. “I still remember how hopelessly in love with you I was back then.”

 

“Hopeless?” Riza retorts with a raised eyebrow, shaking her head. “That’s not a word I’d use to describe you. You've always seemed so sure of yourself."

 

“Sure of myself, maybe,” He admits, leaning back on his hands and staring up at the night sky. It feels endless as they sit there, alone, not having to worry about anyone else for miles. He briefly wonders why they didn’t come back sooner. “But not of anything else. Definitely not when it came to my feelings for you. I really was hopeless.”

 

Riza brushes a strand of hair behind her ear and shakes her head at him. 

 

“You never seemed that interested in me back then… At least, that’s how I remember it. I think you’re romanticizing things.”

 

“And what if I am?” Roy grins, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners. Her gaze softens with admiration, and she blushes at him- just the little bit of confirmation he needs to push forward with this. “It’s a good night for it, don’t you think?”

 

The quiet sounds of the estate settle around them; crickets chirping, leaves rustling faintly in the breeze. Riza takes a bite of her rice, chewing thoughtfully as her gaze shifts back to the stars. For a moment, Roy hesitates, his hand returning to his pocket and clasping the ring box tightly. The timing feels perfect, and yet, there’s a heaviness in his chest that makes him pause.

 

“Riza,” He says as they come to the end of their meal, his voice lower now, drawing her attention back to him. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you for a long time.”

 

She tilts her head slightly, curiosity evident in her honey-hued eyes. 

 

“What is it?”

 

Roy shifts as he takes a deep breath and gets on one knee. His heart pounds, but there’s no room for doubt now. Slowly, he pulls out the small velvet box. The sight of it makes Riza freeze, her breath catching audibly.

 

“Roy,” She whispers, her voice laced with surprise and something else that he’s too nervous to try to discern. “ What are you-”

 

“I wanted to do this at the restaurant, but it just- well, it didn’t go the way I wanted. I thought you’d prefer something more private, anyway,” He gently interjects, flipping the box open to reveal the ring inside. The glow of the fireflies makes the gold band shimmer faintly, the small blue diamond in the center catching the light in just the right way. “I had this whole speech planned in my head, but after so many years together, there’s not much I can say to you that hasn’t already been said… So, I’ll put us both out of our misery and ask; will you marry me?”

 

Riza’s eyes go wide, her lips parting slightly. She stares at the ring, and then at him, her expression unreadable. And, much to his horror, she bursts into tears .

 

Roy’s face falls at the sight of her covering her face with her hands- at the sound of her crying- and he freezes where he’s kneeled on the blanket, trying to figure out what the hell is going on. 

 

“I’m sorry,” She speaks, wiping tears away from her eyes and sniffling. “I can’t believe I’m ruining your proposal.”

 

“You’re not ruining anything, just tell me what’s wrong,” Roy tries his best to be reassuring, even as confusion and a bit of hurt lace his expression. 

 

“I don’t know- god, I’ve been crying so much lately, I can’t believe you have to keep dealing with me when I’m like this,” Riza groans, a mixture of pure sadness and frustration. She throws her hands down onto her lap with tears still falling down her face. “I’m just upset . I wanted this to happen naturally.”

 

“What do you mean?” He pries.

 

Seeing her cry is so incredibly unsettling. He can count on one hand the times that it’s happened, and each and every time, it’s broken his heart. Now, he’s seen her do it twice in the last month, and the realization that he doesn’t know how to make it better is crushing .

 

“I didn’t-” She sharply inhales, and then lets out a shaky breath before continuing. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to move me in with you and propose right now just because of the baby, but you do, don’t you? Ever since I’ve told you, you’ve been running around doing all of this unnecessary stuff; signing that bill, talking to the press, taking off work tomorrow to move me into your house, and now this …”

 

Her words hang heavily in the air as she trails off, and Roy feels his chest tighten at them. He sets the ring box down on the blanket between them and reaches for her hands, his fingers warm and firm against hers.

 

“No,” He says, shaking his head. “Riza, this isn’t just about the baby, I thought I made that clear earlier. I’ve wanted to marry you for years . Long before we ever imagined this. I bought this ring embarrassingly early on in our relationship because I knew , without a doubt, that you were it for me. The timing was never right- we were always waiting for the next step, the next promotion, for all the conflict to finally die, but over the last few days, I’ve realized something really important.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“That there’s never going to be the right time,” He answers. “Not for us. And I don’t want to wait anymore. I don’t care about the risks, or the timing, or what anyone else thinks, or the consequences. I’ll scorch the earth for you if anyone dares to break us apart. I just want you , Riza. You and the life we’re going to build together.”

 

The tears in her honey-hued eyes glisten against the moonlight, but they’ve stopped falling. She glances down at their joined hands before looking back at him. 

 

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?” She sniffles. “You really mean it?”

 

“With everything I have. You’re all I want. You’ve always been it for me. And now, with the baby…” His voice catches slightly, and he takes another breath. “I want us to do this together. Not just as work partners or as two people who are together in secret, but as husband and wife.”

 

Riza swallows hard, her tears spilling over once again as she nods. 

 

“I… I don’t even know what to say.”

 

“Say yes, Riza.”

 

“Yes- of course, yes ,” She lets out a breathless laugh, nodding again. “I’ll marry you.”

 

Relief floods through him as he pulls the ring from the open box and slips it onto her finger. It’s a perfect fit, the gold gleaming against her skin. Roy leans forward and cups her face as he presses his slips to hers, the kiss soft and lingering.

 

When they pull apart, Riza rests her forehead against his, her smile bright and brimming with excitement despite her tears. 

 

“I’ll remind you again, and if you ever start to have doubts, I’ll say it as many times as you need me to; I’m doing this because I love you,” He replies, brushing a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “The baby’s just… A very lucky bonus.”

 

“Lucky? Is that what we’re calling this now?"

 

She laughs again, and he joins her, the sound carrying softly into the still night. 

 

“You about ready to go home?” He asks, gesturing to the empty food boxes, and then to his watch.

 

“Yeah,” Riza smiles. “Let’s head back, and if you want… I’ll stay the night.”

 

Roy smiles back at her, taking her hand to help her off the ground. 

 

“I like the sound of that.”

Chapter 7

Riza is thankful that, by the time they get to the doctor’s office the following morning, it’s pretty much empty. That makes bringing Roy with her far less complicated- if anyone with eyes and a brain saw them going together for doctor’s appointments so frequently, they would put the pieces together. 

 

Still, he’s careful to keep a low profile, wearing a casual outfit that he usually wouldn’t be caught dead in, having shaved the stubble that’s grown over the last few weeks, and donning a hat and reading glasses to cover his hair and alter the look of his eyes.

 

She’s out of uniform too since they both have the day off, her golden hair loose and falling over her shoulders in waves and a sweater with a long skirt adorning her body. Thankfully, like this, not too many people outside of central command will be able to recognize them.

 

It’s better to be careful about being seen here at a prenatal appointment by anyone who isn’t medical staff, even if it feels ridiculous.

 

The waiting room smells of antiseptic and paper, the air thick and unpleasant. Riza sits in a cheap plastic chair, honey-hued eyes observing her surroundings. She’s always disliked coming to the doctor, just dreading the day that she will receive horrible, life changing news of an illness that will take her away like her mother and father were.

 

But today, it’s a little different.

 

There’s nothing physically wrong with her- it’s only been a month since her physical annual and, aside from the pregnancy that was caught during that, she passed it with flying colors. This isn’t like the annual appointments at all. This appointment is because of the baby, because of the family they’re about to start together, and despite the fear and anxiety that has followed her since she found out, she’s starting to feel… Excited .

 

She lets out a heavy sigh and glances to her left, where Roy sits beside her with his hands resting on his knees. In the back of her mind, she’s worried that something will go wrong at this appointment; maybe the test actually was a false positive, maybe there will be no heartbeat, maybe, maybe , maybe . Unlike her, Roy doesn’t seem particularly worried- at least, he’s doing an excellent job pretending not to be.

 

“You look nervous,” He points out as he meets her gaze, his sharp charcoal eyes able to see right through her.

 

Riza shakes her head, crosses her arms over her chest, and crosses one leg over the other. They made the mistake of oversleeping since they took the day off, meaning that neither of them had time to eat, so to add to the list of things to be stressed out about, she’s also incredibly hungry and nauseous.

 

“I’m not nervous,” She replies, frowning as her stomach growls. “Alright, I’ll admit I’m somewhat nervous… Mostly hungry, though. You don’t think anyone here will say anything about you being here, do you?”

 

“Well, considering the only people here are nurses and doctors, I don’t imagine they will unless they want the lawsuit of their lives,” Roy answers with confidence, and Riza realizes that he’s right. 

 

It’s been a month and the doctor she saw last time- as well as the nurses that handled her test results- all know about the pregnancy and haven’t revealed it to anyone as far as she knows, even after the news about her and Roy’s relationship came out. 

 

Roy leans back in his chair, his posture deceptively relaxed. But Riza knows him- knows the tension in his shoulders, the way his gloved hands curl just slightly into fists against his thighs. He’s not as calm as he looks. Part of him is anxious about this too- all of this- from the baby’s health to keeping her pregnancy a secret for as long as they can to the work it’s going to take to move everything from her apartment to his house today and the things people will inevitably say when they find out about them living together before marriage.

 

Before either of them can say anything else, a nurse peeks her head into the room and says-

 

“Riza Hawkeye?”

 

Riza stands immediately. Roy rises beside her, placing a hand on the small of her back- a familiar, protective touch, but one that makes her suddenly, acutely aware of all the sudden changes, because they wouldn’t have been bold enough to do this in public just a month ago. 

 

Riza goes through the same things she did before seeing the doctor the time before; the uncomfortable blood draw, the awkward act of ducking into the bathroom into the back so she can pee in a cup for urinalysis, being led to the room where she’ll be seen where the nurse makes needless smalltalk while taking her weight and blood pressure.

 

The nurse tells them that the doctor will be in shortly before leaving the two of them alone. Riza sits on the patient’s couch while Roy sits in one of the two plastic chairs in the room, tapping one of his boot-clad feet against the tile floor. His eyes flicker across the room, taking in every detail as if assessing for threats rather than waiting for a routine medical appointment.

 

The door swings open a few minutes later, and in walks the doctor, the same woman who had given Riza the news weeks ago. She looks exactly as Riza remembers her; silver hair, sharp eyes, coke bottle glasses perched low on her nose as she flips through Riza’s files and shuts the door behind her.

 

“Good afternoon, Ms. Hawkeye,” She greets, then glances up, her eyes landing on Roy. Her expression doesn’t change too much, but there’s a brief flicker of recognition after she’s able to look at him long enough to peel apart his disguise. “And Fuhrer Mustang. It’s a pleasure to meet you. To what do I owe the honor?”

 

“I’m here as her fiancé,” Roy says, his tone even if not unnecessarily curt. “ And the father.”

 

“I figured as much when I saw the news report. Don’t worry about a thing; I’ve been practicing family medicine for over twenty five years and have seen scandals much worse than this, and I’ve kept my mouth shut every single time,” The doctor responds casually, and Riza feels her cheeks light on fire with a blush. Thankfully, the other woman doesn’t pay too much more attention to their ‘scandal’ and turns to Riza to ask- “Anyway, Ms. Hawkeye, how are you feeling?”

 

“Fine,” She answers. 

 

“Alright, and we haven’t experienced any bleeding, pain while urinating, lower back pain, or swelling?”

 

“No.”

 

“Excellent. Where are we at in terms of symptoms? Have you experienced any?”

 

“Some,” Riza admits. “Morning sickness comes and goes, I’ve had some odd cravings and aversions, my energy’s been a little low, and I’ve been… Emotional, to say the least, but I’m fine for the most part and have been able to continue my usual routine.”

 

The doctor studies her, as if trying to discern whether or not she’s telling the truth, for a moment before nodding. 

 

“Good. Now, I know you were a little taken aback last time we were here when we found out the news, but I wanted to ask because it would help me give you a more exact due date,” The doctor jots something down in her notes, and then continues. “Do you know when your last period was?”

 

“No-” Riza starts, only for Roy to cut her off.

 

“It was at the beginning of December, that day we stayed late to catch up on paperwork,” He interjects, and she’s honestly surprised that he remembers that- because until he brought it up, she had no clue. “I remember because you bled through your pants since you weren’t expecting it and you had to go home to change.”

 

“Oh, right,” Riza sighs. “How embarrassing. I remember now, that was… The third or the fourth, I think?”

 

The doctor nods and writes something else.

 

“Based on the estimate we had last visit and the labs we took today, on top of the start date of your last period, I’m going to say you’re nine weeks along; so baby should come in the first week of September.”

 

She’s nine weeks along… And they have seven months before the baby arrives. She knew , but again, the information hits her like a truck. The last month by itself has flown by, and she imagines that the ones to come will only fly by even faster. Riza’s fingers twitch slightly against her lap. Hearing the number makes it feel more real, like the concept of ‘pregnant’ is shifting from an abstract idea to something tangible, something counting forward, something scary and terrifying and wonderful all at the same time.

 

Riza nods, though she’s having a bit of trouble processing it all- and when she looks at Roy’s face, she can tell that he is, too. She doesn’t feel that different, doesn’t feel like there’s something inside of her already growing and changing so rapidly.

 

“Okay,” She says after a little too long. 

 

Then, the doctor takes a measurement of her stomach- which, while the slightest bit bigger- is still mostly unchanged. 

 

“You’re taking your prenatals and iron supplements every day, right?” She asks, to which Riza nods. “And how’s work been? Have you had any trouble with it?”

 

“No, everything’s fine.”

 

The doctor flips through her notes and offers a satisfied nod when she’s finished. 

 

“From here, I’d recommend scheduling another appointment in three weeks from today, when you’ll be twelve weeks along. Does the same time work? We’ll make sure the office is empty of any potential onlookers due to your… Predicament .”

 

Before Riza can say anything, Roy is answering for her.

 

“We’ll be there. Thank you for being so... Accommodating."

 

“Alright,” The doctor smiles before her expression shifts, as if she’s remembered something important. “Once you hit twelve weeks, your risk for miscarriage decreases, but it’s also a time where pregnancy complications can become a lot more dangerous, so you need to be on the lookout for bleeding, swelling, extreme itching, or contractions. Also be sure that you’re remaining active, but not doing any more physical labor than what you’re used to. Just try to rest when you can between your work.”

 

Roy exhales sharply, but he says nothing.

 

Riza offers a stiff nod and says-

 

“Understood.”

 

The doctor studies her for a long moment before setting down her pen. 

 

“You have a lot of time to figure things out, you two, so try not to worry right now. And if you have any concerns, my door is open- and we have a nurse’s line you can call with any questions that’s open twenty four hours a day. Do you have any questions or concerns for me?”

 

Both of them shake their heads.

 

With that, the doctor hands Riza a slip of paper with a reminder for her next appointment and leads them back to the waiting room.

 

As they leave the office and step back into the cool air outside, Riza feels Roy’s hand brush against hers before he quietly laces their fingers together. Almost as if they’re in sync with one another, they let out a sigh of relief in unison. 

 

‘Everything’s okay.’

 

~

 

Riza isn’t entirely convinced when Roy insists that Alex Louis Armstrong should be the one to help them pack and move her things to the Fuhrer’s estate. It feels excessive- almost like an abuse of Roy’s power- but when she considers the alternatives, she realizes that Roy might actually have a point.

 

Their options are limited at best and disastrous at worst, something that becomes clear when Riza goes through her mental list of them:

• Fuery is too small to be of much help.
• Falman has a bad back and would likely end up needing medical attention before they finished.
• Breda is out of shape and would complain the entire time.
• Havoc wouldn’t bitch and moan through the whole ordeal like Breda would, but the frustrated huffs and sighs he would passive-aggressively let out in front of Roy’s face would be more than enough to risk him facing Riza’s wrath.
• Rebecca, while the most physically efficient of them all due to a decades-long weight lifting hobby, would get distracted by literally anything and make the move take hours longer than it needs to. She would also probably bring Havoc along with her, which would lead to them chatting away with each other while Riza and Roy do all of the work.

 

Riza tries to convince Roy that they can do it by themselves when they stop by Panda House to shovel down a quick lunch in their parking lot, but he reminds her that the doctor specifically advised her not to do more physical labor than she’s used to and that he's in worse shape than she is. So, considering their familial situations as well, Alex really is the only option, even if it’s a little shifty for Roy to use his higher rank to order the poor guy to assist them with their manual labor. 

 

On the bright side, Alex seems excited when he gets the call and rushes to meet them. 

 

After finishing their meal and grabbing a large moving truck from central command- an act that no one dares to question because Roy is Fuhrer and apparently that’s the kind of power he now wields- they drive around the front of the building to pick up Armstrong.

 

The truck only has two seats in the front, which leaves them at an impasse as Armstrong stands beside Riza’s rolled-down window, his massive arms folded across his equally massive chest. She’s briefly reminded of the day when he approached her car window just a month prior to comfort her with a hug that had ‘been passed down through the Armstrong family for generations’ - whatever that means. 

 

Roy and Riza sit there, bickering like an old married couple about who should sit in what part of the truck. Since Armstrong doesn’t know how to get there, he can’t drive to the apartment, and apparently Roy is too good to sit in the back, which has Riza rolling her eyes at him. The sheer size of Armstrong makes the very idea of stuffing him into the truck’s cramped back borderline inhumane- as if making him help with the move isn’t already shitty enough. 

 

“I can assure you, sir, I’m perfectly fine; you and Armstrong can have the front,” She argues for what must be the millionth time. 

 

“No. I don’t get why you won’t just let him sit in the back- you’re the one who’s pregnant,” Roy blurts without thinking, and the second the words come out, Riza half-considers taking her pistol from where it’s strapped to her thigh and shooting him in the mouth. The worst part is that it takes Roy far too long to realize what he’s done in the midst of his rambling. “The doctor said you need to rest when you… Oh, fuck , I’m so sorry-” 

 

“Dammit, Roy!” She exclaims in a mixture of disbelief and exasperation.

 

There is a very specific, very short list of people who know about her pregnancy, and they all only know out of necessity. She had absolutely no intention of adding Alex Louis Armstrong to that list today. But, apparently, that is what’s happening- because as much as she wishes it were possible, there’s no way to take Roy’s words and shove them back down his stupid throat. 

 

“I see,” Alex starts with awe written across his face. Riza is just relieved that he doesn’t exclaim the news loudly enough for everyone in the parking lot to hear. “Congratulations! I’m so happy for the both of you- be sure to let me know if there’s anything you need help with! Anything at all!”

 

“If you tell anyone -” Roy starts, probably about to threaten to fire the poor man, but Armstrong interjects by shaking his head and saying-

 

“I wouldn’t dare,” Armstrong sniffles with tears welling up in his big blue eyes as he clutches his chest.

 

“Why do you look like you’re about to cry?” Roy asks with an unimpressed look as if he didn’t nearly burst into tears at the news himself.

 

Then again, Riza figures, this is a little different. 

 

“I’m just so happy for you!” He exclaims in response, to which Roy looks away from him with crossed arms and a smile he can’t repress no matter how hard he tries. 

 

“Just get in the back so we can take this stuff to the house, will you?” Roy demands with a chuckle.

 

“Of course, sir!”

 

~

 

With Riza packing everything away and Roy and Alex (but mostly Alex) working to carry everything out, the move goes by surprisingly fast. After they’re done, they drop a still-emotional Alex off back at central and head back to Riza’s apartment to gather the few items that are left behind; a couple of keepsakes and some photo albums that easily fit into the back of Riza’s car. 

 

As they’re getting ready to leave for the final time, the phone on the wall rings. Roy offers to answer it, but Riza refuses and picks it up herself, only to hear Rebecca on the other end. 

 

“Riza?”

 

“Rebecca,” She answers, letting out a small sigh of relief. Ever since her and Roy’s impromptu press conference with all of those journalists, she’s been getting random calls left and right from nosy reporters wanting more information about her and Roy’s relationship. How they even got her number, she has no idea. She’s just glad that for the first time in what feels like forever that it’s only Rebecca on the other end of the phone. “What’s up?”

 

“I’m glad you finally picked up- I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day! Jean said you were moving or something? Anyway, you need to come over soon so we can start planning the baby shower!” Rebecca reminds her, and Riza realizes that she totally forgot that a baby shower was even happening. In the midst of everything else, she hasn’t so much as told Roy about it. “I mean, I’m gonna do most of it- making you do all the work while you’re pregnant when I said I’d plan it would be crazy - but I do need your input to make sure you like it.”

 

“Oh, right. Well, we should be free tomorrow after work if you don’t mind us coming by.”

 

“Oh, both of you are coming?” Rebecca asks with a surprised edge to her voice. 

 

“I mean, it is his baby,” Riza says with a small laugh and a raised eyebrow. “Shouldn’t he have some input?”

 

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. See you guys tomorrow, then!”

 

Before Riza can respond, Rebecca hangs up. The phone lets out a long, dull beep into her ear.

 

“So, a baby shower, huh? I had no idea you would care about that sort of thing. I guess I should’ve known.” 

 

Roy’s voice is right in her other ear, and it’s then that she notices he’s come to wrap his arms around her waist from behind. His hands rest on the front of stomach rather than on her waist, which is odd, but she finds that she likes the feeling as he presses a kiss against her hair.

 

“She insisted on planning it when she found out about the baby,” Riza sighs, purposefully choosing to omit the fact that she’s actually pretty excited by the idea of a baby shower; a gathering with all of their friends- their family - to celebrate this new chapter of their lives. “Would you mind going with me after we get off work tomorrow? It’d be nice to get your opinion on everything.”

 

“Of course,” He rests his chin on her shoulder, and even though she can’t turn to look at him, Riza can hear the smile in his voice. “You ready to come home?”

 

Riza pulls away from his grasp to turn around in his arms, smiling up at him.

 

“Yeah. Let’s go home.”

Notes:

In case any of you were wondering/could tell, I didn't go over the top with medical research for this. I used a lot of my own experience and did some surface level research about some things, so if you see some anachronisms, try not to mind them too much. I feel like what's possible in FMA/B in terms of medicine is probably far different than what was possible in IRL in the same time period. For instance, I have a headcanon that alchemy can be used to separate materials in blood and urine to test those levels, or to create medicine that they wouldn't have had right then with the right ingredients, but also that they haven't gotten around to inventing ultrasound machines.

Just thought I'd explain my thought process because while I'm not going to bore you guys with a chapter for every single prenatal appointment Riza goes to, there's going to be a couple of them at important points and I don't want anyone staring at the screen like "what the fuck" lol. Anyways, thanks for reading! <3 so excited to update again soon.

Chapter 8

Roy Mustang swears he’s never been more bored in his life. He sat on one of two couches in Rebecca Catalina’s room with his fiance, Riza Hawkeye, sat to his left. Rebecca is sitting across from them, and Jean Havoc is outside on the front porch smoking a cigarette, having excused himself the moment that they started talking about planning the upcoming baby shower. 

 

“So, first thing’s first,” Rebecca starts. In front of her is a giant planner sat on the coffee table between the two couches, and in one of her small hands is a pen that she uses to write. “When’s baby due?”

 

“The doctor said it should be around the first week of September,” Riza answers.

 

Roy loops an arm over her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. It was a long day of work with them being hounded by the press on the way in and out of the building about their relationship. Roy knew that his stunt with the press would have some unwanted consequences, but dealing with the media on top of the endless paperwork and meetings has him exhausted. All he wanted was to go home and cuddle with Riza in their shared bed, but he promised her he would come to help plan the baby shower’ so he’s here.

 

“Okay, so we should probably do it at the beginning of July. You’ll be pregnant enough to look really cute in a maternity dress, but not pregnant enough to be completely miserable,” Rebecca flicks through the pages of the notebook until she’s at the front of it, which has a calendar. “What about the sixth, then? It’s a Sunday, so everyone should be able to come. We’ll do it in the morning so it’s not too hot, say around ten.”

 

“That’s a good idea,” Riza says, nodding along as Rebecca writes down the date and time on the page to the right of the calendar.

 

“So, what theme are we thinking?” Is what Rebecca asks next as she flicks back to the page of the planner she’d been staring at earlier.

 

Silence falls. Riza looks at Roy, and he stares right back at her. It’s like they’re waiting for each other to answer when, really, neither of them have any idea. Their expertise lies in guns and alchemy and strategy… Not baby showers.

 

“I don’t know,” Riza answers after a few seconds too long. “Does it really matter?”

 

“Well, what theme are you doing for your nursery? We could tie that in,” Rebecca suggests, and when Roy and Riza don’t answer to that either, her jaw drops. “Wait, have you guys not even started setting up the nursery?”

 

“I mean, we have more than six months until the baby is supposed to even be here, so…” Riza trails off, and as she does, Roy realizes that there’s so much they need to do.

 

They need to buy stuff for the baby without anyone seeing them do it.

 

They need to plan their wedding and get married before anyone finds out about the baby.

 

They need to set up the nursery.

 

They need to figure out how the fuck they’re going to hide this entire pregnant-out-of-wedlock thing from the public.

 

They need to start preparing for the birth.

 

Suddenly very, very overwhelmed, Roy grips onto the floral monstrosity that is the arm of Rebecca’s couch. The fabric, somehow too soft and too firm at the same time, feels scratchy beneath his fingers. 

 

“Yeah, but what if you go into labor early? Plus, you’re not gonna feel like doing it when you’re super pregnant,” Rebecca argues, and deep down, Roy knows that she’s right. His stomach is twisting itself into knots. “You better get on that asap or Mustang over here will end up having to put together the entire thing, and we both know that’s not going to work out.”

 

Roy lets out a slow exhale, trying his best to ignore the shitty remark to no avail. Riza shifts uncomfortably where she’s sat next to him. 

 

“Right…”

 

“Okay, well maybe we don’t need themes right now, but we at least need to figure out the color scheme. I was thinking something pastel?”

 

“I like that idea,” Riza replies. “Perhaps yellow and green? Summer-y and gender neutral.”

 

“You’re a genius!” Rebecca cheers and scribbles the colors down. Meanwhile, Roy nervously bounces his leg as he sits there, trying to figure out the logistics of… Well, everything else they have to do over the course of the next six and a half months. “Oh! We could do little centerpieces shaped like baby boots and-”

 

“Do we really need centerpieces?” Roy interjects, and immediately, he feels Rebecca glare over at him. Truth be told, they’ve never gotten along. While they’re not sworn enemies, they’re not close, either. Roy finds her to be obnoxious and she finds him to be a ‘bossy cocksucker’, as she once drunkenly divulged to him after they all got blasted and started bickering at a bar in central. “What?”

 

“Obviously, we need centerpieces! Do you think I’m just throwing a cake on a table and calling it a day? This is my best friend’s baby shower. It needs to be perfect, and I’m not letting you get in the way of that, even if you are the Fuhrer,” Rebecca lets out a huff before turning back to the Riza. Slowly, Roy starts to understand why Jean retreated to the porch. He probably knew that they were going to bicker like this. “Ugh, maybe you shouldn’t make it co-ed, that way daddy over here can’t come and sour the mood.”

 

Roy thinks to argue, but then he sees Riza giving him what he has mentally dubbed as ‘the warning glare’. He quickly settles into the couch with a pout, his arms crossed over his chest. 

 

“Whatever.”

 

“Moving on, then! Let’s talk food. I can cook everything here, but-”

 

“Why don’t we just have it catered?” Roy offers, feeling slightly bad about the fact that Rebecca is going to pour so much time and energy into all of this when Riza probably didn’t even want it in the first place.

 

“Because I have taste, and most catering places are dogshit. It’s also better that I make the food so we don’t risk Riza getting food poisoning- that could be really dangerous for her and the baby. Plus, you’re rich now, so you can buy pretty much anything I’d need to make it.”

 

“That’s not how that works,” Roy argues.

 

“That’s exactly how it works,” Rebecca retorts without a second’s hesitation, probably one of the only people left who has the guts to sit and argue with him since his promotion. 

 

Roy sighs. 

 

“Something tells me this is going to be a very long evening.”

 

Jean Havoc strolls in from outside, cigarette dangling from his lips. He ducks into the kitchen, and then comes back a few moments later carrying three beers tucked underneath one arm and a cup of tea in his hand. He hands Roy and Rebecca a beer each, keeping the third for himself, and then hands Riza the cup of tea. 

 

“Having fun yet, you two?” Havoc asks, smirking as he cracks open his beer and takes a swig of it. “She’s been talking non stop about this baby shower thing for weeks, I can’t even imagine the hell she’s putting you through now that you’re actually here to plan the damn thing.”

 

“It’s not quite hell. Just a very slow, excruciating kind of suffering,” Roy replies, smirking back at the other man.

 

“You’ll live,” Rebecca says, dismissing his complaint with a wave of her hand. “Besides, this is what you signed up for when you knocked up my best friend.”

 

Havoc chokes on his drink, coughing as he wipes his mouth. 

 

“Jesus Christ, Bec. You could’ve eased him into it a little.”

 

Rebecca shrugs and offers a shit-eating grin as Havoc sits next to her on the couch.

 

“I think he needs constant reminders.”

 

Riza sips her tea, entirely unfazed by the comment despite the hot blush that’s rising to Roy’s cheeks.

 

“I don’t think he’ll forget about it anytime soon.”

 

Rebecca leans forward, eyes gleaming. 

 

“Now, time to talk about the guest list. Let’s start with the obvious ones,” Rebecca starts writing names in the planner; herself, Roy, Riza, Havoc, Breda, Fuery, Falman, and Alex Louis Armstrong.

 

“Wait,” Roy says, alarmed. “Why is Armstrong on that list?”

 

Rebecca blinks. 

 

“Why wouldn’t he be?”

 

“He doesn’t need to be,” Roy complains. 

 

As much as he loves the guy, he knows that Armstrong will bring a mountain of gifts, cry the whole time, and eat them out of house. Plus, he’d assumed it would be a slightly more intimate gathering, with only their team and Rebecca. 

 

“You’re so wrong,” Rebecca complains, her nose scrunching up.

 

Roy sits up straight with a frown taking over his face. 

 

“I am not .”

 

“He’s going to show up anyway, Roy,” Riza interjects. “Plus, he has always been very supportive of us. He should get an invite… Even if he drowns us all in a pool of his tears on the day of.”

 

Roy opens his mouth to argue, only to close it seconds later. Armstrong will find out one way or another, and if he’s not invited, he’ll just dramatically crash the event. He has also been incredibly supportive of them, even agreeing to keep their news a secret when he could very well sell it to the press for a large chunk of change. 

 

Roy sighs, defeated. 

 

“Fine. Just don’t invite his sister,” Roy complains, and thankfully, Rebecca at least agrees to that.

 

“What about Grumman?” Rebecca suggests next. 

 

“We haven’t even told him the news yet,” Riza sighs, and it’s true. She didn’t grow up knowing her grandfather, and even after she found out about their familial relationship, she was hesitant to foster that. She’s been putting more effort in the last couple of years, but they’re still not incredibly close. Roy knows that, sooner or later, they’re going to have to go tell him about both the engagement and the pregnancy. “But yes, go ahead and add him to the list. Just don’t send him the invite until after we’ve told him. I’ll let you know.”

 

Havoc, who’s been somewhat quiet for most of this visit, lets out a small laugh before saying-

 

“You know, this is the most domestic I’ve ever seen you, Mustang. It’s kind of adorable.”

 

Roy glares at him. 

 

“ Shut up , Havoc.”

 

“I mean it, man. I never thought I’d see you here worrying about baby shower guest lists cake flavors.”

 

“I am not worrying about cake flavors.”

 

“Speaking of which,” Rebecca interrupts, tapping her pen against her notebook. “For the cake-”

 

“Strawberry sponge with cream cheese frosting,” Roy cuts in immediately.

 

Rebecca rolls her eyes. 

 

“You don’t get to decide, Mustang.”

 

“It’s her favorite,” Roy defends his stance, which earns him a roll of his eyes from Rebecca. 

 

“I don’t really care what kind of cake it is,” Riza sighs, glaring between the two, as if telling them to shut up with her eyes. 

 

Rebecca gasps. 

 

“You don’t care?”

 

“Not particularly.”

 

“What kind of pregnant woman doesn’t care about cake?” Rebecca asks, and all she gets in response is silence. Finally, she lets out a sigh of relief and scribbles ‘strawb w/ cream cheese’ on the page. “Strawberry with cream cheese frosting it is.”

 

~

 

By the time that they leave Rebecca’s house and get in the car to head home, Roy is equal parts stressed and exhausted. Though the baby shower planning was able to tear him away from the many things he has to be stressed out about, as soon as he puts the car into drive and pulls out of Rebecca’s parking lot, his mind circles back to it.

 

“We should work on wedding planning, too,” He mutters, driving with one hand.

 

His other hand is on the middle console, holding Riza’s. His gaze flickers to where their fingers are interlocked, and he laments that Riza isn’t wearing her engagement ring where she should be. Instead, it’s on a chain that’s linked around her neck and tucked underneath her turtleneck- hidden from public view to keep from others finding out about their engagement before they’re ready. 

 

“Right, we are getting married,” Riza responds. Her head rests against the passenger’s seat window, her cheek lightly smushed against the glass. “I kind of… Forgot about that.”

 

“How do you want the wedding to be?” Roy asks, and he has a good idea of what her answer will be, but if he’s to have it set when he wants- preferably in the next month- they need to hash out the fine details. 

 

“Private,” Riza answers, which stings, even though he expected it. He knows that the public won’t take too kindly to their wedding being a private affair rather than a grand militaristic spectacle. Still, Riza’s wants are important to him. “Rebecca should be the maid of honor… And I want a modest dress that will hide my scars and my bump. Aside from that, I don’t care.”

 

“What, like you want me to plan the entire thing?”

 

“You care more about that sort of stuff than I do, Roy,” Riza says, her eyes fluttering shut. Roy can tell that, over the last month especially, she’s more tired than usual. Part of him wishes that things were different- that they were settling down more naturally, not having to rush a wedding or a baby shower or anything else. But he knows deep down that there never would’ve been a right time, that if something like this wouldn’t have happened, one of them would’ve died before they’d gotten the chance to be wed. “And you’re always asking me to let you take care of things more often. So, you can get with a wedding planner and figure it out.”

 

“Huh. Well, I guess that works. We’ll just have to do it soon. It’ll be easy enough to hide the baby when you’re in uniform, but a wedding dress is an entirely different story… It’ll only do the job for so long.”

 

“Right. I read somewhere that it’ll be more obvious around the fourth month for first time moms, so we should aim to be married before then,” Riza says.

 

If her information is right, they have less than two months until she’s going to start to show- less than two months to figure out what they’re going to do about the public eye, about who will replace her, about everything . 

 

“That reminds me. What do you want to do about work?”

 

Riza sits straight up, practically snatching her hand away from him as she stares at him with wide eyes. 

 

“What?”

 

“I mean, you’re probably going to take medical leave to stay home when you start showing,” Roy says. A pang of anxiety hits him as he takes his eyes off the road to analyze her expression; she doesn’t even look like she’s thought that far ahead, and really, he hadn’t either. At least not in depth. “Right?”

 

“I… Hadn’t thought about it.”

 

“Riza,” Roy says the words as gently as he can as they pull into the Fuhrer’s estate. An attendant unlocks the gates outside of the large house, allowing Roy to drive in and pull into the large driveway where he parks. “You can’t work up until your due date. If people do the math and find out that you got pregnant out of wedlock…”

 

“I know, I know,” Riza sharply exhales, a frown taking over her face. “Look… We’ll get married, and when I’m big enough that it’s noticeable, I’ll put in my leave. When people inevitably ask about it, you’ll tell them that I’m newly pregnant so that they think it happened right after the wedding, and that I’m going to be staying home the entire nine months because the doctor ordered that I be on bed rest.”

 

“It feels bad to lie about something like that,” Roy frowns right back at her and runs a hand through his hair.

 

It does nothing to ease the stress. 

 

“Sure, but it’s the only way to make sure that we don’t get any flack for this. We’re just going to have to lie.”

 

“What about after the baby’s born?” Roy demands. If, roughly six months after their wedding, they have a perfectly full-term baby, people are sure to figure it out. “If they can look at the baby and do basic math, they’ll know.”

 

“We’ll keep the baby out of the public eye for the first few months… Hide their birthday, say we’re just trying to protect their privacy from the public so that nothing happens to them. I doubt anyone will care to ask about the details, anyway. Sometimes babies come early. Honestly, by the time that we’re there, people won’t want to ask questions.”

 

“Yeah, you’re right. I guess I’m just overthinking it.”

 

Roy takes the keys out of the ignition and lets out a long, drawn out sigh. Much to his surprise, Riza leans over the middle of the seat, twisting slightly so she can pull him into her arms. As soon as he feels her comforting embrace, another sigh comes- of relief, this time. He allows his eyes to fall shut, enjoying her warmth, even if it’s only for a little while.

Chapter 9

Riza is surprised to wake up the next morning with Roy lying right next to her.

 

It’s still quite the adjustment. She remembers what it’s been like for most of the last ten years- the constant sneaking around, slipping into each other’s arms only under the cover of darkness or behind closed doors. It had always bothered her, but as long as they could be together, she endured it- for him, for his aspirations, for their safety.

 

If only she’d known just how great this would be, she would’ve pushed for it a lot sooner. 

 

Roy holds her tight, his arms wrapped securely around her waist. His palms rest against the bottom of her stomach, a silent acknowledgment and adoration of the life they’ve created together. He presses soft, gentle kisses along the back of her neck, his breath warm against her skin. 

 

Riza blinks the sleep out of her eyes and stares forward at the wall. A shiver runs through her when he whispers against her skin-

 

“You’re finally awake,” The words are low and rumbly, edged with the lazy gravel that always lingers in his voice this early in the morning. Riza glances to the window, noting that the sky is still dark. They normally leave for work right at sunrise. This means that they still have time. “I was missing you.”

 

“Were you now?” Riza questions as she turns around in his arms so she can see his handsome face. 

 

The moment her eyes adjust to the dim glow of the fading moonlight, she sees it- the heat in his gaze, dark with unmistakable intent. Desire.

 

‘Ah, so it’s going to be one of those mornings.’

 

But the thought isn’t an unwelcome one. They’ve been so busy, so stressed, that intimate moments like this have become rare despite the close proximity that comes with living together. With the baby coming in a little more than six months, she knows that their time alone will be even more fleeting. She wants to savor every second of it while she still can. 

 

“Mhm,” Roy hums back at her before leaning in, capturing her lips in a kiss that’s surprisingly soft- unhurried, full of something deeper than just desire.

 

The morning breath is somewhat unpleasant, a little too sweet from the chocolates that they stress ate together before bed last night, but she’s sure that hers is as well- and they’ve been together long enough that they’ve stopped caring about things like morning breath. 

 

“What time is it?” She questions, trying to glance at the alarm clock that sits on the nightstand behind him, but her vision is still too obscured by sleep to make out the glowing red numbers. 

 

“Almost six. We still have more than an hour before we have to be in the office,” Roy explains, the words paired with a mischievous grin that still makes Riza’s heart skip a beat, even after all these years. 

 

“How long have you been up?”

 

“Only a few minutes,” He pauses to press a kiss against the tip of her nose, and then another to her cheek. “Sorry if I woke you up. It’s just… I had a dream about you.”

 

“Is that so?” A small smile takes over Riza’s lips as she circles a hand around to run it over his hair. The sleep-mussed raven locks feel heavenly beneath her fingertips, soft and warm. “What was I doing in this dream of yours?”

 

The grin on Roy’s face turns downright sinful. 

 

“Why don’t we hop in the shower and I’ll show you?”

 

Riza pretends to consider it, tilting her head slightly, as if she isn’t already sold on his suggestion. 

 

“I suppose I could indulge you as long as you make it worth my while.”

 

With that, they’re both getting out of the bed. Roy leads her to the bathroom while holding one of her hands in his. He flicks the light on as soon as they enter the room, and it’s blaring, but she tries not to let it bother her as she turns the shower knob to the hottest setting.

 

She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror and frowns at the sight. She doesn’t look horrible , but she does look different . Rather than entirely flat like it was just a couple of months ago, her abdomen has rounded out, taking on a softer look- but she doesn’t quite look pregnant , just bloated, which she finds to be sort of awkward and unattractive. Her breasts are slightly bigger, and really sore, too. All around, it’s inconvenient and uncomfortable, but not terrible. At least not yet. She figures it’s nothing her military uniform can’t hide, at least for now.

 

“Staring at my beautiful wife?” Roy snaps her from her thoughts. He’s standing behind her, his hands on her hips, thick fingers brushing against her sensitive skin in all the right ways. “I guess I can’t blame you. It’s a nice view.”

 

“We’re not married yet. I’m not your wife,” Riza scolds him, though it’s half-hearted. The word ‘wife’ gives her butterflies when it comes out of his mouth and she feels utterly ridiculous for it. “And you don’t have to flatter me.”

 

“I’m not flattering anyone,” He says, his tone light, but he doesn’t meet her eyes in the reflection of the mirror. She supposes what he says is true- it’s not flattery, because if he didn’t mean the praises he’s been singing her so consistently, his cock wouldn’t be hard and throbbing against her backside right now. “Just being honest.”

 

“Hurry up and get in the shower before I change my mind.”

 

It’s an empty threat, but Roy doesn’t dare test her. He steps into the water with Riza following close behind him, a hiss falling from between his lips when the scalding water hits his back.

 

“Gah, you ran the water way too hot,” He complains and turns her around to face him.

 

She quirks an eyebrow. 

 

“Do you want me to shower with you or not?”

 

“Fine, fine,” Roy relents with a sigh.

 

“Now, back to what we were talking about in the bed,” Riza starts, resting her hands on Roy’s chest. The familiar, hard planes of his pectorals are hot beneath her touch. She meets his eyes, a small smile spreading across her face. A pang of nausea threatens to take over- an annoying pregnancy symptom that persists if she doesn’t eat something to settle her stomach as soon as she wakes up- but she’s able to swallow it down and continue. “What was I doing in this dream of yours?”

 

“Mm, you were on your knees,” Roy whispers. Riza is tempted to tease him, but central command is ten minutes away and they only have an hour until their shift starts. They just don’t have the time. So, she drops to her knees, ignoring the slight discomfort of the hard porcelain shower floor against her soft skin. She braces herself by grabbing at the meat of Roy’s thighs, which earns her a small grunt from him before he continues. “Using your mouth on me.”

 

“Using my mouth, hm? Where at?” Riza leans forward, pressing a kiss against his thigh and another against the sharp curve of his hip bone. Then, she grasps his cock in her hand by the base and finally- finally- offers a kiss to the tip. Roy leans back against the shower wall, his eyes fluttering shut and his hands gently carding through Riza’s hair to push it away from her face. “Ah, is that where you wanted it?”

 

“Fuck, yes,” He tilts his head back. With every breath he takes, his muscular chest rises and falls- and he’s so excited that the occasional tremble runs through his legs as she runs her tongue up and down the underside of his length. “Riza…”

 

Finally- finally , she takes the head into her mouth, gently suckling on it. He massages her scalp with her fingers- encouragement . But when she sinks her head further down until the tip touches the back of her throat, all she can register is nausea . 

 

She pulls away, her face twisting with discomfort as she does everything she can to keep from puking on the shower floor. Spit dribbles down from her mouth onto the top of her thighs and tears are pricking hot at the corner of her eyes. 

 

Briefly, she wonders how the fuck this is happening for the first time after ten years- and then, she remembers that she’s pregnant. Even brushing her teeth makes her gag. Why she thought it would be a good idea to try to engage in oral sex in her condition, she can’t say. 

 

“Riza,” Roy kneels down onto the shower floor along with her, one of his hands gently cradling his face. Rather than desire, his eyes are now filled with concern. What a mood killer. “Are you alright?”

 

“I’m fine, just-” She scrambles to her feet to turn the water temperature down so it’s lukewarm- anything to get rid of the hot, curling nausea that’s taking over her stomach and esophagus. “Roy, I need you to go get me something to eat or I’m going to throw up.”

 

“Wait- right now?”

 

She nods, unable to meet his gaze. 

 

“Right now. As fast as you can.”

 

Roy rushes to get out of the shower, nearly slipping as he pushes the curtain out of the way and tumbles out. If this weren’t so humiliating, it would be hilarious. He’s back a couple of minutes later with an unwrapped granola bar and an open bottle of water in hand. 

 

“Here,” Roy turns the shower off completely and climbs back in so he can hand the granola bar and the water to Riza. “You okay?”

 

“Ugh, this is just embarrassing,” She sighs before gulping down the entirety of the water in just a few swallows. “I’m so sorry.”

 

“Don’t be. I’m not worried about it. We’ll just… Put a rain check on doing that until after you’re over the morning sickness.”

 

“But I want to make you feel good,” She complains, only for him to shake his head at her.

 

“Riza, I’m just glad I got to wake up next to you in bed this morning. I don’t think skipping one blow job is going to kill me.”

 

“Do you still want to do something else…?” Riza offers, hoping he’ll say yes- that they can still do something , but he shakes his head.

 

“No, we better hurry up or we’re going to be late to work.”

 

Unfortunately, he’s right. They’ve probably already wasted ten or twenty minutes- and when her gaze flickers over to Roy, she sees that he’s totally soft. Of course, seeing your fiance nearly puke on your dick will do that to you. She’d be concerned if he were hard after that. Still, it’s disappointing. 

 

Riza scarfs down the granola bar, tries to shove her embarrassment to the back of her mind, and allows Roy to help her up to her feet so that they can finish their shower. 

 

~

 

They make quick work of showering and getting dressed, ending up in the kitchen with Black Hayate skittering around their feet. Riza is ready to leave, fully in uniform with her hair pulled back and her work bag slung over her shoulder. Roy, however, lingers by the fridge. Black Hayate follows him with an expectantly wagging tail- a direct result of Roy spoiling him with deli meat and cubed cheese straight from the fridge since the move. 

 

“We should eat before we go,” Roy suggests despite the fact that the clock on the oven insists they only have thirty minutes left until they need to be at the office. 

 

“I already ate,” Riza complains.

 

One thing she’s still adjusting to when it comes to being around Roy 24/7 is his relentless nagging. Most people would assume that she’d be the one constantly checking in, reminding, organizing, but it’s not. It’s him. Every single day, he reminds her to eat three proper meals and two snacks (which she feels is way too much- she’s growing a tiny baby, not a mammoth), to drink at least eighty ounces of water (which she swears is an impossible feat, especially when the baby who’s supposedly the size of a kumquat is pressing against her bladder), and to brush her teeth in the morning and at night (as if she doesn’t already do that by herself, despite the miserable gagging it’s started to induce over the last month).

 

But of course, he persists, because that’s who he is, and Riza would be lying if she said that the neglected version of herself from their childhood didn’t love the consistent care and attention. 

 

“A granola bar isn’t a meal, it’s a snack,” Roy chides, shooting a glare her way before turning back to the fridge. “Now what do you want?”

 

“I don’t know… Maybe Panda House? They opened at five. We could grab it on the way.”

 

“No, I was thinking I’d cook something real quick.”

 

Riza raises an eyebrow at that. 

 

“Roy, I haven’t seen you cook in the ten years we’ve been together,” She says, which earns her a roll of his eyes and an indignant pout. 

 

“So?”

 

At that, Riza laughs. 

 

“Who are you and what have you done with Roy Mustang?”

 

“Haha, real funny,” Roy crouches to look through the drawers of the fridge, a frown on his face. Unsurprisingly, the selection is grim. Deli meat, bread, cheese, bear, bottled water, and a few packs of soy and duck sauce saved from the bottom of paper Panda House bags. A depressing sight, really. “God forbid I want my pregnant fiance to eat a nice, home cooked meal.”

 

“I don’t think any meal cooked by you is going to be ‘nice’,” Riza points out.

 

Roy pulls his head out of the fridge, looking completely unimpressed. Black Hayate lets out a disappointed whine when he realizes that he’s not getting anything. 

 

“Seems like we don’t really have enough food to cook anyways.”

 

“Sounds like someone needs to make a trip to the grocery store tonight, then,” Riza secures her bag back over her shoulder with a smile. “But we better get going before we’re late. Especially if we’re going to get Panda House.”

 

“Who said we were getting Panda House?”

 

“Your empty fridge.”

 

Roy laughs, shaking his head at her.

 

“Panda House it is.”

Chapter 10

Riza is three months along before Roy is able to process everything that’s happened since she became pregnant, but he finds that he’s actually excited as he takes her to try on wedding dresses.

 

They enter the boutique, standing by each other’s sides, and Roy can’t help feeling… Surprised. He never expected to be here, in a place like this, surrounded by wedding dresses and veils. Part of him thought that they would hide their love from the world forever, staying so close yet so far away. This is better, he decides, even if the circumstances aren’t entirely ideal. His ring on her finger. Their wedding in less than a month- their baby due in less than six. 

 

The front counter is empty, and there are no workers to be seen, so they stand near the entryway for a moment. 

 

Roy glances over at Riza. She looks calm, as she tends to, but he knows her well enough to see the tension in her shoulders- the anxiety that’s so clearly eating at her.

 

“I can’t say I expected you to look so… Nervous about this,” He observes, wrapping an arm around her from the side to pull her close to him. 

 

“I’m more excited than anything,” She replies, though her tone is far too even. A clear sign that she’s forcing it to keep anyone else from noticing her nerves. “I just… I mean, I look different. Do you think anyone will be able to tell?”

 

Riza looks to Roy with anxiety flickering in her honey-hued eyes. She won’t ask for it outright, but he can tell that what she needs right now is reassurance. With each day that passes, with each minor physical change, Riza is growing increasingly scared that someone outside of their circle will find out about their baby. Roy can’t say that he isn’t feeling something similar. He knows that things will be a bit better once they’re legally married, but it doesn’t change the lingering fear of the potential repercussions this could have.

 

“No, Riza. It’s not even noticeable. You look like you’ve maybe gained five or ten pounds, not like you’re… Well, you know,” Roy says, to which Riza glares back at him and pushes him away.

 

“Gee, thanks for that,” She huffs, but Roy can tell that she’s not really too upset. Still, he scolds himself for the insensitive comment. He just knows he’ll have to make it up to her later. “Glad to know that I just look like I’ve gained weight and not like I’m-”

 

“Stop that,” Roy lightly scolds. “No one knows, and no one will find out unless we want that to.”

 

Riza lets out a soft sigh, hand brushing over her stomach. Since it’s so early in the morning, neither of them have had anything to eat, meaning that it still looks somewhat flat. 

 

“Yeah, unless I throw up on one of these dresses. Or, worse, one of the poor workers.”

 

At that, Roy chuckles. The nausea has been a consistent problem for the last couple months, but it seems like it’s finally starting to die down. Not that he wants to test out that observation in the middle of a boutique. 

 

“Let’s avoid that. Besides, the public took our engagement news surprisingly well. You heard the radio yesterday.”

 

He put out an official statement the afternoon before- again, against the rest of his team’s advice- announcing their engagement to the public. They received an immediate outpour of support from the public, from local radio stations and citizens, from other members of the military to newspapers. Roy would be lying if he said he expected it to go so well, but he’s glad that it did. 

 

“Or maybe they’re just relieved that the playboy Flame Alchemist is finally setting down,” Riza retorts, laughing back at him. 

 

“Or maybe they’re relieved that you’re the one who has to put up with me. They’re probably grateful, you know- not too many people could handle such a laborious position.”

 

Riza raises an eyebrow at him, but the smile on her face doesn’t leave.

 

“I don’t know if I’d call being with you ‘laborious’, Roy.”

 

Just as Roy is about to respond, a friendly-looking woman with chocolate brown curls of hair, heavy makeup, and sparkling green eyes comes out from the back of the store. 

 

“Oh, my, you weren’t waiting for too long, were you?” She greets them, breathing heavily. Roy looks around, wondering where the other members of staff are. “I’m so sorry- everyone called in sick today and- oh my god, it’s the Fuhrer and his wife to be! In my store!? Wait, you had an appointment! I totally forgot about your appointment!”

 

Riza clears her throat.

 

“Don’t worry about it, ma’am, but I do have another appointment after this at noon,” Riza says, and it’s true. Her three month prenatal appointment is in just a few hours, and they need to stop somewhere to eat before that, so they don’t have too much time to waste here with the fumbling- albeit nice- shopkeeper. “I was just wanting to try a few things on, if you don’t mind…”

 

“Oh, of course, my dear! My name is Gertrude, by the way,” The woman- Gertrude- sets down a stack of papers on the counter and rushes over to Riza, linking one arm in hers. Riza is clearly thrown off by the touch, but doesn’t push her away. “Let’s go find you some dresses, and I’ll take your measurements while I’m at it, too! We’ll have you in and out of here in no time!”

 

With that, Riza is dragged away, leaving Roy alone. He lets out a deep sigh and sits down in the chair that’s deliberately placed across from the dressing rooms, waiting. 

 

~

 

The first dress is far too tight and doesn’t cover nearly enough skin. It’s a shoulderless mermaid dress with an extremely tight chest and waist, and though it barely covers the scars on Riza’s back, Roy knows that it could reveal them if she moved just the wrong way. As soon as she steps out of the dressing room, Roy can sense the discomfort radiating from her. Hell, it hugs her frame so tightly that she can barely move around in it. 

 

“I don’t think this one is right for me,” Riza says, a tight frown on her face.

 

The attendant rushes to get another dress.

 

“Yeah, no. You look uncomfortable.”

 

“That’s because I am,” She replies flatly before retreating back into the dressing room.

 

Gertrude returns shortly after with another dress, which she pushes into Riza’s room from behind the privacy curtain. Riza comes out an embarrassing amount of time later, and Roy can tell that she hates this one, too. 

 

The skirt is so big and fluffy that she has to condense it by pressing her hands flat against the sides to actually exit the dressing room, and the puffs at the shoulders are as big as her head. It’s the opposite of the last one- loose and frumpy yet just as impossible to move around in. 

 

“Absolutely not,” Roy laughs, and Riza laughs along with him. “I don’t want you to fall and break your neck on the way down the aisle.”

 

“I concur.”

 

Riza retreats into the dressing room one last time. When she resurfaces, Roy’s jaw goes slack. He forgets how to breathe. 

 

This dress is perfect. It’s a soft cream color with minimal floral embellishments, a high back and a low chest, and a flowy skirt. There’s just enough room for it to be comfortable without it being too loose, and Roy can tell by the look on Riza’s face that she loves it, too. 

 

Gertrude seems to agree, reaching forward to address the train and reaching for a matching veil, which she quickly places atop Riza’s head. The accessory completes the look, and she beams.

“I think we’ve found the one, you two!” She grins, looking between Roy and Riza with excitement written across her face, but all Roy can look at is Riza. 

 

For a moment, nothing else exists- not the pressure of his position, not the eyes of the public, not the stress of planning their upcoming wedding. Just her . 

 

“What do you think?” Riza questions, clearly waiting for a response from him. 

 

“Gorgeous,” He breathes out before turning to Gertrude. “We’ll take it.”

 

The shopkeep lets out a delighted sort of noise.

 

“I can’t believe I found the perfect dress so quickly,” Riza murmurs, looking at her own reflection in one of the many mirrors.

 

The dress is perfect, though it’ll definitely need some tailoring to make it fit exactly the way it should, and it’s then that Roy stops to think. The wedding isn’t that far away now, but pregnancy changes things fast. 

 

“...Do you think you’ll be able to fit into it by the time the wedding rolls around?” He questions.

 

“What do you mean? I thought you said the wedding would be in the next month when you called, sir,” Gertrude mentions, and it’s then that Roy realizes, in the midst of his excitement about the dress, that he’s fucked up.

 

The last thing he needs is to accidentally reveal the pregnancy to another person. So, he rushes to come up with an excuse. 

 

“She’s on a… Medication, that causes rapid weight fluctuations. So we need the dress to be flexible both ways. I hope you understand.”

 

“Oh! Of course, sir,” Seemingly satisfied by the response and easily fooled, Gertrude nods. “The two of you don’t have to worry about a thing. We’ll make sure it’s extra stretchy!”

 

Riza returns to the dressing room for the fourth time to remove the dress and change back into her regular clothes. When she resurfaces yet again, she tucks the discarded dress into Gertrude’s arms. The woman rushes to the back of the store with it, probably to get it set up so that she can tailor it to Riza’s measurements. Considering that the wedding is so soon, she’s probably going to have to spend every waking hour on it to get it done.

 

“That was a good cover,” Riza says, sitting next to Roy. When she realizes that Gertrude is out of earshot, she continues, her voice low. “I hope my ‘medication’ isn’t too obvious by the time you get this wedding date set.”

 

“Well, it’s like I told you earlier- I called around and the venue I picked should have a spot in about three weeks.”

 

“Huh. Well, I doubt I’ll get that much bigger by then…”

 

“You never know, but I’m not worried about it,” Roy shrugs.

 

He’s learned to deal with the problems as they come. If the dress proves to be a problem somehow by the time their wedding date rolls around- which he doubts since it’s only in a few weeks- they’ll figure it out like they’ve figured out everything else. 

 

“What about invites?”

 

“Well, the wedding planner has a list of all of the important people; the rest of the team, Catalina, Grumman, Armstrong,” Roy explains. 

 

Riza raises an eyebrow at him, as if he’s forgetting something important.

 

“You aren’t going to invite Madame Christmas? And Vanessa?”

 

“Oh, right. I forgot about that,” Roy admits, because he did. His relationship with his family is… Complicated. Madame Christmas took him in when no one else would, but she’s more like a distant aunt than a mom- and Vanessa is so much older than him that there’s a disconnect despite the fact that they’re technically adoptive siblings. He doesn’t see them unless it’s for work reasons and while he feels a lot of love for them both, their familial relationships aren’t exactly traditional. Not that Riza knows that. Roy has never told her very much about his early childhood, and if he has, it’s only been the good parts. “Well, they don’t know about the… Situation.”

 

“We should tell them, at least about the engagement. Madame Christmas is the closest thing you have to family, and pretty much the only grandparent our child is going to have.”

 

Madame Christmas isn’t exactly the maternal type. Roy has a hard time imagining her being a loving, doting grandparent- hell, she’d probably try to get the poor kid to work at her brothel. 

 

Roy desperately wants to sit there and bicker about it, but he has to remind himself that Riza doesn’t know about the fact that his foster mother mostly took him in for the government check she received in return, nor does Riza know about the fact that she left Roy to his own devices for most of his childhood. He doesn’t feel like he has the right to talk about it with Riza. Not really. Not when her childhood was so awful in comparison. 

 

But, there’s a reason that, in the ten years they’ve been together, he hasn’t taken Riza to meet his family.

 

“What about Grumman?” Roy retorts after a little too long. “He’s a grandparent, isn’t he?”

 

“He’s a great grandparent,” Riza quickly corrects him, to which he offers a reluctant nod in agreement. 

 

“You and semantics…”

 

“Let’s stop by the bar after my appointment. It’s about time I met them."

 

“Do we have to?”

 

“Yes.”

 

~

 

After the shopkeeper takes Riza’s measurements, they leave the boutique and grab- you guessed it- Panda House. Roy worries that, by the time the baby is born, it will be made entirely of rice and chicken, but who is he to tell a pregnant woman what she can and can’t eat?

 

They eat in Roy’s car and rush to the appointment, barely making it on time. Roy is relieved to find that, once again, the waiting room is empty. He has no idea how the staff is able to accommodate that just for two people, but he’s thankful for it as they’re led into the back room. They go through the usual checks- a blood draw that he holds her hand through even though she insists she doesn’t need that, a urinalysis, a million questions that he recognizes from the last appointment, a weigh in, blood pressure, and so on.

 

It’s uneventful, but that’s a good thing. A breath that he didn’t even know he was holding leaves him as they get back in the car. 

 

“Let’s go home,” He grumbles, exhausted, but Riza just shakes her head at him.

 

“We have a stop to make first.”

 

~

 

And so, Roy ends up at the brothel- or, as it’s advertised to the law, Madame Christmas’s bar. He’s sitting on a barstool, Riza sat to his left and his foster sister, Vanessa, sat to his right. 

 

“I guess it’s about time I introduced everyone,” Roy starts, a little anxious as he does. Even though they’ve been together for ten years, this is Riza’s first time formally meeting his family- if he can even call it that- and he’s nervous about how they’ll interact. “Riza, this is my mom, Madame Christmas, and my sister, Vanessa.”

 

‘Mom’ and ‘sister’ don’t feel quite right, but he doesn’t want to get overly descriptive. It always feels awkward no matter what he does. 

 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Riza responds, looking between Madame and Vanessa with her honey-hued eyes. 

 

“So,” Madame smirks from where she stands behind the counter, stacking and unstacking glasses. The bar is otherwise empty since it’s the middle of the afternoon, so there’s no one else around to hear or see them, much to Roy’s relief. "This is the girl you always came and drunkenly cried to me about, huh?” 

 

“Hey!” Roy exclaims, his cheeks burning bright red as Riza looks over at him with slightly widened eyes. “Don’t say those things right in front of her… She doesn’t need to know about that.”

 

Madame laughs, but doesn’t argue, instead turning to Riza with a bright smile. 

 

“What do you want to drink, doll?”

 

“Just a soda, please.”

 

At that, Madame raises an eyebrow. 

 

“No alcohol?”

 

“I’m… On antibiotics right now,” Riza quickly comes up with an excuse, but of course, it’s the oldest one in the book. Roy tries not to let his anxiety show. He would trust Madame with his life, even if they’re not as close as most mothers and sons tend to be. He knows he could trust her with their secret, but he doesn’t expect Riza to. “They said I shouldn’t have any alcohol until I’ve finished the bottle.”

 

Madame looks suspicious, but doesn’t say anything further. She pours a club soda for Riza, a glass of wine for Vanessa, and a whiskey for Roy. 

 

“I’ve been seeing you two all over the news over the last month or so,” Madame quickly changes the subject, drumming her fingers against the bartop. She stands right across from Roy and stares between him and Riza, as if trying to figure something out. “No more fraternization laws, a big obnoxious speech to the press about your so-called ‘new’ relationship, and let me guess; you’re finally bringing her here to meet me because you finally grew a set of balls and proposed, so now you’re engaged, too.”

 

“I’m assuming you saw the news,” Roy says, to which Madame Christmas shakes her head.

 

“No, I just know you, boy. That and I saw the ring on her finger from a mile away.”

 

“Well, you're right about everything, ma'am,” Riza smiles, but it’s awkward. Roy can tell that she’s tense. Uncomfortable. Wondering if she’s making a good impression. If only she knew she didn’t need to dwell on that. “We actually came to invite you to the wedding.”

 

“Okay, so if I’m right about all that,” Madame tilts her head, and then takes a deep breath before continuing. “Then I’m also probably right about the fact that you’re rushing all of this because you knocked her up.”

 

The room goes cold. Riza looks to Roy, waiting for him to say something. Anything. Vanessa’s ocean blue eyes are as wide as saucers. And Madame is just standing there, waiting for an answer. 

 

“Uh-” Roy struggles to give a cool response, but Madame is already cutting him off. 

 

“The club soda was a dead give away, doll. Have ‘Nessa here bartend your wedding, she’ll know to give you mocktails all night and no one will know any better,” She says, and Roy is surprised by how cool she’s being about this until- “As for you-”

 

-and she’s reaching over the counter, smacking Roy over the back of his head so loud that the smack echoes through the room. 

 

“Ouch!” He exclaims, shooting a glare in her direction. “The hell was that for!?”

 

“You idiot!” Madame scolds him, leaning forward so she can glare right back at him. “How could you go and get this poor girl pregnant before you even married her? And you’ve been together for, what, ten years? How long does it take a man to grow a set of balls and propose to his woman? I thought I raised you better than that!”

 

“Raised?” Roy grumbles, rubbing the sore spot on his head. Madame Christmas hits a lot harder than most people would expect her to. “You didn’t do much of that.”

 

“Don’t make me hit you again, Roy,” Madame threatens. She softens again instantly when she turns to Riza. “Anyways, when’s the little baby due?”

 

“Beginning of September,” Riza answers.

 

She glances over to Roy, and though she doesn’t say anything to him, the question lingers in her gaze. Are you okay? Is this normal?

 

He looks back at her, rolling his own eyes. Yeah, that’s about par for the course with her.

 

“I can’t believe I’m going to be an auntie,” Vanessa pipes up, excitement dripping from every word. 

 

“I can’t believe I’m going to be a grandma,” Madame comes out from behind the counter so she can drag both Roy and Riza into a hug with her large, strong arms. 

 

“Not like you were much of a decent mom,” Roy complains under his breath. 

 

“I’m glad you’re excited,” Riza interrupts before Roy and Madame can start arguing again, which is probably for the best. Madame releases them from the hug, smiling, and Riza turns to her to ask- “That reminds me, would you guys like to come to the baby shower as well? It’s in July.”

 

“We would love to!”

 

“I’ll have my friend Rebecca send both of you an invite.”

 

With that, they start talking about other things, and Roy finds himself letting out a sigh of relief. It's not perfect, but the support is... Nice. 

 

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to come here after all.

Chapter 11

A week passes. Riza is anxious about the wedding, but her and Roy are gradually getting everything sorted. They’ve secured the venue, the dress should be tailored and finished a few days before their set date, they’ve got Rebecca to agree to cater, and Vanessa and Madame Christmas have agreed to bartend. Roy’s even got a hold of a florist who’s served the Armstrong family to provide flowers for the event, and Havoc insisted on officiating. All they have left to do is ask Gracia if Elicia can act as their flower girl- and to get Black Hayate, the ring bearer, a suit.

 

It takes a lot of weight off of her shoulders. But of course, when things seem to be looking up for them, someone always manages to come along to sour her mood. 

 

The day starts off well enough. Riza and the rest of Mustang’s tight-knit team are sharing a table in the middle of central command’s cafeteria, chatting and eating. Riza is mostly listening to her friends discuss random topics from failed dates to tedious paperwork between bites of soup, only contributing to the conversation occasionally between bites of tomato soup. 

 

She wishes Roy were there, too, but he got caught up with a phone call.

 

“Hey, doesn’t general Hawkeye look like she’s gained weight?”

 

Oh. Never mind. Suddenly, she’s incredibly glad that Roy is not there.

 

Riza freezes at the mention of her name, not daring to look over her shoulder to see the face of the man who she knows is talking about her. He’s sat at the table behind her, his back facing hers. Riza isn’t sure if he doesn’t realize that she’s so close by or if he’s talking loudly on purpose so that she’ll hear him. Against her better judgment, she hones in on the conversation as his colleague responds. 

 

“Oh, for sure,” The woman sitting next to him responds, a small laugh slipping from between her lips. 

 

Riza recognizes both of their voices immediately- they’re two first lieutenants, quite a bit younger than her and Roy. They have a horrible work ethic and have bombed more than a handful of field missions over the last couple of years, meaning that both Riza and Roy have torn into them quite a few times. Just earlier this morning, Riza found herself scolding them yet again for jokingly pointing their loaded guns at each other while play fighting. It makes sense that they don’t like her- that they’re talking about her like this. But to do it in the middle of the cafeteria when she’s right there… 

 

“You can really see it in her face. I guess when you’re the Fuhrer’s adjutant, you get to sit on your ass and file papers all day instead of actually working like the rest of us do. Makes sense that she’s put on a few pounds,” The man chuckles, to which the woman responds-

 

“I’d say it’s more than just a few.”

 

Riza tenses, honey-hued eyes scanning over her teammates. They’re still chatting away, meaning that they haven’t noticed yet. She lets out a sigh of relief and does her best to keep her face even, to not give away that there’s two people sitting just a few feet behind her talking about her… Weight gain. 

 

It’s something that makes her uncomfortable. Between moving in with Roy, who is making sure that she eats a decent amount, the stress of the pregnancy and wedding planning, and not going on field missions like she might’ve before Roy’s promotion, she’s gained some weight. It isn’t a lot in the grand scheme of things, but it’s enough to make a difference on her small frame. The lean, muscled look she had just a few months ago is long gone and she’s terrified that she won’t ever get it back. And she knows that she shouldn’t feel bad about it. She’s growing an entire person from scratch. Yet… She feels really bad about it. 

 

Self-consciously, Riza pulls her uniform jacket tighter around her body. It is a little more snug than it used to be. Apparently, it’s noticeable to people other than her. 

 

“Man, she really tore into us today for that play gunfight we did,” The man muses, to which his colleague laughs again and does the worst mock impression of Riza that she can muster.

 

“Yeah, did you hear her? ‘You shouldn’t point a gun unless you have the intention to kill the person on the other end of the barrel’ ,” She says in a ridiculously high pitched voice that makes Riza tighten her grip on her cup of water. 

 

“Uh, general?” It’s Havoc who’s voice breaks her out of it. Riza realizes then that her entire team is staring at her. Shit . “What’s wrong?”

 

“Um,” Riza starts, debating on what to say. They haven’t noticed so far- it’s probably best not to tell them. Havoc and Breda in particular tend to go overboard when it comes to protecting her and Roy from their critics. “Nothing. Sorry. I was just… Distracted.”

 

But then, one of the first lieutenant’s starts up again- and now that Team Mustang’s table is silent- they’re all able to hear.

 

“Ugh, you know she’s only as high ranking as she is because she slept her way there,” The woman says, and oh. That’s just… Embarrassing. “And it’s crazy because he could do so much better.”

 

“Yeah, if I would’ve known all I had to do to get a promotion to general was to become the Fuhrer’s personal slut, I would’ve done it as soon as he got the title,” The man laughs, and Riza feels a mixture of shame and humiliation burning hot in her gut. “Too bad Hawkeye beat me to it.”

 

Riza has never been the sensitive type. She’s used to people talking negatively about her- about them. There have been an increasing number of critics since the news about their relationship came out despite the overwhelming amount of support they’ve received from everyone else. She knew it wouldn’t all fall into place perfectly, she knew that there would always be people against them. But something about hearing it here, today, from her subordinates is so frustrating that she wants to scream into her soup. 

 

“I’m about five seconds away from whipping out my pistol and shooting at their mouths,” Breda grumbles. He’s sat across from Riza, so he’s able to glare daggers into the lieutenants’ backs. They don’t seem to hear him, though, too preoccupied with their gossiping. “Do I have your permission, general?”

 

“Absolutely not,” Riza quickly shoots the idea down, as tempting as it may be. 

 

“What they’re saying isn’t okay, though,” Fuery, who sits to Riza’s left, argues with a frown. “Maybe I could talk to them?”

 

“I like Breda’s idea better,” Havoc responds between bites of his chicken sandwich, rolling his eyes. He’s sat next to Breda rolling his eyes at the display. “Though I’d rather use my rifle on ‘em.”

 

“I think we should go for something more subtle,” Falman weighs in from Riza’s right. “If you guys can help me find their lockers, I’ll break into them and put laxatives in their water bottles.”

 

“No,” Riza answers, because as fun as it would be to watch Breda shoot at them, hear Fuery verbally tear them a new asshole, or laugh at them as they made a run for the toilet a few hours from now, Riza knows that it’s not the right thing to do. “I order all four of you to stand down. It doesn’t matter.”

 

“Are you sure?” Breda questions.

 

“Yes, I’m sure. And you’re not to tell anyone else about this, especially Fuhrer Mustang,” Riza commands, knowing that if Roy hears a word of any of this he’ll blow a gasket- at the idiotic first lieutenants for being so disrespectful, at their team for not doing anything (even if it was only because of orders from Riza), and at Riza for not telling him. “That’s an order.”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” Is the echoed chorus she hears from Breda, Fuery, and Falman, but Havoc just rolls his eyes again and calls out to the younger soldiers from their table.

 

“Hey, can you guys shut the fuck up?”

 

“Havoc!” Riza hisses.

 

The man and the woman look over at Havoc, as if they’re unsure whether or not they’re who he’s addressing.

 

“Yeah, I’m talking to you guys,” Havoc continues, completely ignoring Riza’s scolding. The two first lieutenants look between him and Riza with horror written across their expressions. “Why do you look like that? What, you didn’t notice the woman you were dissing was sitting over here? That’s just embarrassing.”

 

Without even responding, the man and the woman stand from the table, scurrying away with a half-assed apology and their lunch trays left behind. Riza turns to Havoc with a glare.

 

“You’re a horrible listener.”

 

At that, Havoc just grins back at her.

 

“Sorry, general. It was either that or the rifle. Be glad I chose the less nuclear option.”

 

With that, the team returns to the conversation they were having before, laughing and chatting away. Riza stares down at her soup, whatever appetite she might’ve had completely gone. It’s only half-empty. A sigh falls from between her lips as she stands up and takes her lunch tray, but she still can’t shake how the first lieutenants’ words replay over and over again in her head. 

 

~

 

Riza does everything she can to hide the interaction from Roy for the rest of the day. She’s careful not to seem like she’s in a bad mood, plastering on a smile every time he glances at her and engaging in regular conversation with their teammates. She’s good at hiding when she’s upset, a skill practiced over many years of being the spine of their team. She listens to everyone else’s problems without sharing her own, keeping her own feelings close to her chest.

 

Unfortunately, while the act seems to fool Team Mustang into thinking that she’s easily brushed off what happened at lunch, when you’ve been with a man for ten years, you can’t hide much from him. And of course, Roy notices that something has happened. 

 

Riza settles into the passenger’s seat- a more regular occurrence these days. They’ve practically started sharing his car since they live together, the shitty one she had been using for years abandoned in the driveway of Roy’s house following the move. A quiet exhale leaves her as she buckles her seatbelt, noting how it digs a little more into her chest than it used to. 

 

The drive home tends to be a quiet reprieve, something she’s started looking forward to over the last month or so, but tonight, it’s different. Roy’s grip on the steering wheel is just a little too firm, his gloved knuckles pulled tight. The silence stretches between them, thick and heavy.

 

He definitely knows that something is wrong.

 

And, if that isn’t bad enough, he’s frustrated that she isn’t going to share it with him on her own. She doesn’t have to ask to know what’s bothering him.

 

She prays that he’ll leave it alone. That she’ll be able to endure the car ride in awkward silence and then retreat straight to bed as soon as they get home. That she’ll be able to sleep off the humiliating things that those first lieutenants said about her and wake up tomorrow morning like everything is fine. That Roy won’t find out about it. But of course, things are never that easy with him. The man pries like it’s second nature.

 

It starts off small. It always does. A glance in her direction. And then another. A clearing of his throat. Then, finally, he talks. 

 

“Riza,” Roy addresses her directly, but doesn’t take his eyes off the road. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing,” She answers, a little too quickly- a little too practiced, because she knew deep down that he would ask. And when he spares the flicker of a glance of disbelief at her, she sighs in the defeat that she knows is about to come. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

 

“Riza… You’ve barely said a word since lunch. And it’s not just because you’re tired, so don’t try to lie to me.”

 

It reminds her of a father scolding his lying child to the point that she scoffs before snapping at him-

 

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

 

“Okay, look,” Roy, surprisingly calm, shifts gears as they hit a slower part of traffic. They’re getting closer to the house. Maybe if she can just brush him off for the rest of the car ride, things will be fine. She doesn’t want to talk about this. It’s incredibly embarrassing, and worse, she knows that Roy will go absolutely nuclear. “I’m not going to have you pissed off at me all night. What did I do? Is it because I didn’t join you for lunch? You know I want to spend time with you, but that call was-”

 

“It has nothing to do with you,” Riza cooly interjects before he can overthink this more than he probably already has. She hadn’t considered the possibility that he would blame himself. It makes her feel guilty. Has he spent the entire day thinking that he did something to upset her…? “Well, it sort of does, but it’s not your fault.”

 

“Please, just tell me,” Roy pleads. “I want to help.”

 

Riza really doesn’t want to tell him. But the softness in his voice and in his eyes as he glances over at her again wears down the little bit of self restraint that she has left. Quickly, she finds herself talking. 

 

“...I overheard two of our younger subordinates gossiping about me at lunch,” Riza admits, keeping her voice as even as she can in an attempt to not let him know just how much the interaction is upsetting her. 

 

“What’d they say that’s got you so upset?”

 

“A variety of things.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Well, for starters, they called me fat.”

 

The car jerks slightly as Roy slams on the brakes harder than necessary at a red light. Whether it’s from shock or from anger, Riza isn’t exactly sure. His hands tighten even more around the wheel, his entire body going rigid at the sudden admission. 

 

“You’re not fat,” Roy argues, his expression shifting into one of complete disbelief. “Even if you were fat, which you’re not , I think at our age- after everything we’ve been through- you should be allowed to be fat without anyone making snide comments about it. You know how many fat guys work with us?”

 

Riza stops to think about it. There are quite a few heavyset men that she’s worked with over the years, but she’s never thought about it, let alone said anything, because she- like most people- knows that it’s rude.

 

“Quite a few.”

 

“Exactly, and no one says anything, but the second a woman puts a little weight on- I swear, when I get my hands on those little shits-”

 

“Roy,” Riza interjects, not quite sure she wants to hear the graphic threat he’s about to make. 

 

He’s always been a little overprotective of her. Sometimes, it’s a blessing. Other times… It’s a lot to deal with, but she can’t say that she wouldn’t do the same for him. 

 

“Riza, you’re pregnant. You’re supposed to be gaining weight,” In the midst of it all, he tries to reassure her. Riza knows that he’s right, but the words don’t do much to soothe the wound of bodily insecurity that’s been there for so long, nor do they pull out the knife that their subordinates twisted into it at lunch. Roy lets out a sharp exhale. “You look fine.”

 

“Logically, I know that.”

 

“But you still let it get to you,” Roy points out, and she doesn’t respond because as much as she doesn’t want to admit it, she knows that he’s right. “What else did they say?”

 

Riza sighs. The rest of what happened will most definitely tip Roy over the edge, if he isn’t there already. 

 

“They said that I’m only a general because I slept my way there and that you’re far too attractive to be with me.”

 

Roy’s fingers are drumming sharply against the wheel now, his body tense, as if he’s physically having to hold himself back from turning the car around and making a scene at central command. He probably is. 

 

“What are their names?”

 

Riza leans back into her seat, crossing her arms tight over her chest and allowing her eyes to flutter shut. She can’t look at him when he’s like this, can’t bear to meet the intensity in his gaze that she knows is there.

 

“It doesn’t matter.”

 

Roy lets out a humorless laugh.

 

“Well, it matters to me.”

 

“I don’t want two stupid, young idiots who don’t know any better to lose their jobs just because they have the tendency to gossip,” Riza retorts, and she’s tempted to follow that up with ‘the fact that you’re reacting like this is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you in the first place’ , but she doesn’t.

 

“But they can’t just say those things and-”

 

“No. If you were to do anything, you would just prove them right, because I know you wouldn’t reprimand them for anyone other than myself… And you would be abusing your power,” Riza looks at him now, and he immediately seems to calm down when he meets her eyes. “If you recall, there was a time where we hated our superiors and talked about them like that, too.”

 

“Yeah, but they were actually horrible,” Roy pouts. 

 

“And I’m sure they feel the same way about us.”

 

He drives past the stop sign after a little too long, moving forward, but the tension in the car still remains. 

 

“I just want to make you feel better. What can I do?”

 

“There’s nothing you can do, which is why I didn’t want to tell you,” Riza frowns. She feels an overwhelming, crushing guilt- about the unexpected pregnancy, about the weight of their public relationship falling on Roy’s shoulders, about the shotgun wedding, about this . It’s entirely too much and she finds herself staring out the car window to keep Roy from seeing the tears welling up in her eyes. “It just… Sucks, and because of the way things are, I know I’m the only one who’s going to get any backlash for this.”

 

“What makes you say that?”

 

“ You’re the Fuhrer. You can get away with anything now- you could gain a hundred pounds and sleep with every woman in central and no one would say anything,” And it’s a bit of a hyperbole, but they both know she’s (mostly) right. “Me? Not so much. I’m just your general, and your ‘personal slut’, apparently.”

 

“That’s not true. You’re about to be my wife,” Roy reaches for her hand and takes it within his own, squeezing it tightly. “And I don’t want two little shits who don’t even understand our situation to think they can get away with badmouthing my wife while she’s sat at a table a few feet away from them.”

 

“Before we got engaged, you would’ve just told me to let it roll off my shoulders- and I’m going to suggest you do the same, Roy. That’s a warning.”

 

“Ugh, I hate that you’re right,” He pouts again as he pulls up to the house, driving through the front gates and pulling his car into the driveway. “I guess I shouldn’t have pushed you to tell me.”

 

“It’s alright. I know you were just worried,” Riza says, and though she’s still upset, she does feel a bit better after talking about it with him. 

 

Roy parks the car and turns to her, worry etched into his expression. 

 

“There really isn’t anything I can do?”

 

“No,” Riza sighs, shaking her head. “Let’s just… Try to enjoy a normal night together. Maybe try to sleep all this off.”

 

~

 

They do not, in fact, sleep it off. At least not immediately.

 

They cook dinner together- a nice, simple soup. It’s peaceful as Riza prepares the meat and chops the vegetables. Roy takes on the duty of setting up the pot, filling it with stock, and adding herbs and spices before putting the prepped ingredients in. The meal is simple, though still delicious and healthy. 

 

The debacle from lunch that day lingers in the back of Riza’s mind, even when they eat and chat about other things, but with each hour that passes, it becomes a little easier to cope with. 

 

They end up in bed earlier than usual. Riza lies on her side, facing the wall. A long, light blue nightgown adorns her frame as her wavy golden hair spills over her pillow in waves. Roy is behind her with his arms around her waist and his hands resting on her lower stomach- something he’s been doing lately even though you can hardly tell that there’s a baby there. His body is slotted perfectly against hers, his clothed chest flush against her back and his legs entangled with her legs. The heavy, calming breaths that he lets out ghost the back of her neck, almost as calming as the melodic piano that comes from the radio playing on his nightstand. 

 

Riza thinks she might fall asleep like this, in the dark with his arms wrapped around her tightly and music lulling her to unconsciousness. A warm, fuzzy feeling takes over her mind, but she’s snapped out of it completely when she hears the words-

 

“I want you.”

 

And oh, fuck . The warm, fuzzy feeling is immediately replaced by hot, burning desire coursing through her veins. Riza had no idea how much she needed to hear those words until they were already out of his mouth, gravely and low in the small bit of space between their bodies. 

 

Riza doesn’t turn to face him, but she does respond. 

 

“Is that so?” The question comes out soft and sultry, and he smirks into the back of her neck.

 

“I’ve been wanting you all day,” Roy says, and the idea fills Riza with excitement until he follows them up with a statement that makes her bristle. “Want you to ride me.”

 

The idea doesn’t turn her off, necessarily, but it does scare her. She looks different. He knows she looks different. To be in a position so intimate where he can see every part of her that she’s been insecure about over the last few weeks is… Scary. At the same time, she wants nothing more than to be held by him- to feel him rock up into her and to hear him whisper words of love and reassurance against her lips. He’s always had a way of making her feel like he finds even the worst parts of her to be sexy. Yet, even after all these years, she can’t find it in herself to ask him, and the fear of him rejecting her in any way wins out. 

 

“I… I don’t know,” Riza breathes, anxiety lacing every letter, but Roy doesn’t quite seem to pick up on why. 

 

“Are you not in the mood for sex?” Roy asks, all too considerate of her needs and all too afraid to push anything she doesn’t want. He’s always been that way. It really is the bare minimum, but for whatever reason, the consideration makes Riza’s chest flutter. “We can just go to bed-”

 

“No, it’s just…” Riza reaches down, placing her hands on top of his. “I don’t want to do it like that .”

 

“...Why?”

 

The question isn’t full of frustration or judgment, but of concern and curiosity. 

 

“I’m just not feeling great about myself right now, Roy,” Riza sighs, eyes fluttering shut. “I’ve had a hard day. My hair is a mess. I’ve been hating the way my body looks for the last month. I want to have sex, but I… I don’t know if I can handle you looking at me.”

 

She hears Roy swallow behind her. He pulls back- not all the way, but enough for his hands to slide out from underneath hers and enough to stare at the back of her head with what she knows is confusion without even having to look at him. 

 

“But I want to look at you.”

 

Riza can’t help but scoff, falling into her self-deprecating nature. 

 

“I can assure you that you really don’t.”

 

“You don’t get to tell me that,” Roy grumbles, and fuck , it’s like he knows exactly what she wants- what she needs . His hands trail down to her thighs, slipping underneath her nightgown. He pushes at the satin material until it’s bunched up just above her belly button. Every brush of his fingertips against her skin lights the nerves underneath on fire. “We live together. We work together every day. Shower together every morning. I know what you look like, and there’s never been a time where I’ve disliked your body. Nothing is going to change that.”

 

“…Okay,” Riza shakily replies after a little too long, her response time lengthened by desire. Roy’s hands are needy and desperate now, proving every word he’s said true as he possessively gropes at her; her thighs, her stomach, her breasts. She can feel his bulge, semi-hard where it presses into the curve of her ass. “Can we keep the lights off?”

 

“Will that make you more comfortable?” Roy whispers, though Riza can tell that he doesn’t love the idea.

 

But, that’s what relationships are about. What their relationship has always been about. Compromise, teamwork, helping each other carry weight that they wouldn’t otherwise be able to carry on their own. 

 

“I think so.”

 

“Then, yeah, that’s fine. There’s enough moonlight that I can still see,” That much is true. The room is a little hazy, but the beams that pour through the cracks in the blinds are enough to paint the otherwise dark room in streaks of pale yellow that give just enough that Riza can make out her immediate surroundings. Roy shifts, just enough to reach his arm back onto the top of their nightstand, scrambling. He grabs the box of condoms that sits there and then grumbles out a complaint. “Fuck, we’re out of condoms.”

 

Riza just laughs, shaking her head.

 

“I think we’re a little bit past that point.”

 

And Roy laughs along with her. 

 

“Oh, right.”

 

“Unless you’ve been sleeping with other people-”

 

“Don’t even joke like that,” And Roy is back on her, spooning her from behind again. In an awkward sort of motion, he drags her nightgown up off of her body and tosses it across the room. A shiver runs through her at the mixture of the cold air of the room hitting her skin and the commanding tone in his voice. “I haven’t slept with anyone other than you in fifteen years.”

 

“We haven’t even been dating for that long,” Riza points out, her brow furrowing together in confusion. 

 

“Doesn’t matter. I’ve loved you for way longer than we’ve been together,” Roy argues, and then follows that up with- “And we’re not dating anymore, by the way. We’re engaged, and you’re about to be my wife. I think I like the sound of that much better than ‘dating’.”

 

“I think,” Riza starts, a laugh slipping past her defenses. The tension and insecurity that threatened to take over just moments ago seems to seep out in an instant, replaced by nothing but love and adoration. “If I ever told anyone that you were like this in private, they’d never believe me.”

 

Roy gives her a lopsided smirk in response.

 

“I know. You’re the only one who gets to see me like this. That’s the point,” Roy reaches up the length of her abdomen with one of his hands, taking one of Riza’s nipples between his fingers and pinching it. Riza tilts her head back against his, a moan falling from between her lips. “Just like I’m the only one who gets to see you like this . If I told anyone that you moan so pretty for me, they’d never believe it, either.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Never. You said yes to my proposal; that means you’ve signed up to have me talk your ear off for the rest of our lives.”

 

“I signed up for that when I decided to serve under your command. I knew what I was getting into,” Riza arches into his touch as he continues to lavish her body in affection with merely his touch, roaming and squeezing and loving until his fingertips have brushed against every part they can access. “Maybe it’s just fun to tell you to shut up sometimes.”

 

“Oh, but you like it when I talk to you. I know that much,” One of Roy’s hands is in between her legs now, pulling the black cotton panties she’s wearing to the side so he can part her folds with his fingers. Riza sharply inhales, desperately wanting more but too self conscious to ask for it. “Look at how wet you are for me.”

 

“Roy…”

 

“Fine, I won’t tease you too much,” As quickly as he started to touch her, Roy retreats. He undresses; his t-shirt, his pajama pants, and his boxers all abandoned on the rug beside his half of the bed. When he’s done, he lies on his back and pats his lap. “Come here. I’ve been waiting for you all day.”

 

Riza doesn’t hesitate. She climbs onto his lap, her knees on either side of his thighs and panty-clad front lightly grinding into his hard cock. 

 

But, as she settles there, Riza notices that things don’t feel quite the same as they felt last time they had sex in this position. Her breasts are heavier than they were the last time they did it like this, her areolas a slightly darker shade under the beams of moonlight that pour in through the blinds, and her stomach is a soft slope rather than a concave or a flat, rigid line. When she feels the bottom of her stomach brush against his abs- still perfectly firm and rock hard- she jolts. 

 

The tension, the insecurity, is back . And of course, Roy can immediately tell that something is off when he sees her expression shift. 

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing,” Riza answers, but she knows that he’ll just pry for the truth until she gives it. “Just… Insecure.”

 

Part of her expects him to get agitated when she says things like that. To tell her that he’s tired of having to reassure her constantly, that he’s tired of having to deal with her being so self conscious. To get up and leave.

 

But he doesn’t. 

 

“You know, I’ve always loved your body. Back when we were in Ishval and you lost all that weight, I was worried, but I still thought you looked beautiful,” Roy starts. The memory of those times is possibly the most unsexy thing he could’ve thought to talk about, but then, he’s gently brushing her hair away from her shoulders and pressing a gentle kiss against the scar on her throat. She arches into the touch, lips parting in silent pleasure when his hands grope her soft thighs. “When we returned and you started working out, I thought you looked even better.”

 

“I was quite a bit lighter then,” Riza quickly retorts, because she was . She doesn’t like thinking about it- about how much she took advantage of her significantly younger, significantly thinner body and abused it when it was the best she’d ever looked. Not that those things ever mattered to her much before, but now that time has changed her so much, it makes her upset. “Of course I looked better.”

 

“It’s not about that,” Roy says the words as if he’s exasperated. Before Riza can even argue, he’s flipping her onto her back and climbing on top of her. She feels so incredibly self-conscious and raw, lying there under the moonlight, almost entirely undressed as Roy drinks her in with his eyes. He shifts so that most of his weight is between her legs, his arms on either side of her waist as he leans down to admire her stomach. He kisses it once, and then twice, looking up at her as he does. “Remember how I was all over you after I got my vision back?”

 

“I do,” Riza answers.

 

Despite their injuries- they had sex almost every day for months when Roy regained his sight even though Riza had put on quite a bit of weight from stress eating during their recovery. She hadn’t liked it, but there had been parts about it that were good- her hair had been thicker, her nails stronger, her face adorned with a healthier glow. She quickly lost it all once they returned back to work and assumed that his desire for her had been spurred on by her near death experience- by the realization that he could lose her at any moment- not by anything else. She didn’t even think he noticed the change. 

 

“I remember thinking that you were the most beautiful you’d ever been,” Roy admits, nearly melting her underneath the warmth of his gaze. 

 

“There’s no way you really thought that-”

 

“But I did think that, and I can’t believe you haven’t realized by now that as long as you’re alive and here with me, I’m going to be attracted to whatever body you’re in,” Roy interjects. It’s getting ridiculous now- the kisses peppered across her abdomen, the nips and sucks he places on the mounds of her breasts, the bites littered on her thighs, the loving touch of his hands that can’t seem to find a place to settle. “I don’t care about your scars or your weight or anything else as long as you’re you - as long as you’re mine . I love you . And with every day that passes, I love you even more.”

 

“Roy,” Riza threads her hands in his hair, gently pulling. He immediately understands what she wants and scoots up to hover right over her. His charcoal eyes peer into hers, curious. Riza can’t even meet his gaze because she’s too preoccupied blinking away the tears that threaten to spill from them. The reassurances aren’t unfamiliar. She’s heard them before. But something about hearing them now makes them mean more than they have at any other point. “Shut up and take me before I start crying.”

 

“I think I can do that.”

 

Roy easily takes Riza’s panties off and maneuvers them back into a similar position as the one before- him, sitting up with his back against a pillow propped on the headboard- her, in his lap, hovering just inches above his cock as he holds the hard length with one hand and holds one of her hips in the other. She clutches at Roy’s shoulders, fingers digging into the pale skin, and he holds onto her waist like it’s a lifeline as he captures her lips within his own. He lines himself up with her entrance and uses his hold on her hip to help her sink down onto him. 

 

Riza lets out a low moan and threads her fingers back in Roy’s hair as she’s filled. It’s been too long. She doesn’t know exactly how long- just that it’s been too long, since she’s felt him like this, his hands on her body, his cock buried inside of her to the hilt. The kiss that he’s dragged her into is utterly debauched, slow, and delicious. His tongue parts her lips and slides into her mouth, tasting the green tea that she drank after dinner at the same time that he lifts her up and drops her back down onto him. 

 

It’s different without the condom acting as a barrier between them. Definitely different. 

 

She’s felt it bare before- in her hands, in her mouth- but to have it inside of her like this is heavenly . There’s more friction there, more wetness, more heat, and she can feel each and every vein that runs up the length of it. 

 

Roy is kind enough to do most of the work. Riza knows better than to object to it after so many years of being with him, relishing in the way he takes care of her; the way he grinds his hips into hers, the head of his cock hitting her sweet spot over and over and over again. 

 

“Oh,” Riza lets out a low noise, breaking the kiss for air. Roy doesn’t stop, instead tilting his head back just the slightest bit to admire her face- her body- and his eyes are full of such love, such adoration as he fucks into her, that Riza swears they sparkle against the darkness of their bedroom. The want that emits from him combined with the fact that it’s been so long since they’ve done this has her nearing the edge embarrassingly fast. She clings to him, resting her forehead against his. Her hands rise to his face, palms resting on his cheeks and her fingers brushing his unruly raven hair away from his eyes. “God, Roy, it’s-”

 

“You really are gorgeous,” Roy cuts her off. His spare hand comes to her head, pushing her golden hair back- and before she can mentally scold herself for not tying it back- he’s wiping away tears that she didn’t even realize were falling with his thumb. “My gorgeous wife.”

 

A shiver tears through Riza at the praise- at the title, even though they’re still a couple weeks away from being married. His wife . She likes the sound of that more than she thought she would. Even more so when she remembers that would make him her husband . One of her hands slides between her legs to toy with her clit, the other still caressing Roy’s cheek.

 

The sound of skin slapping skin echoes through the room. He makes love to her like his life depends on it, needy and wanton in every motion. Her body reciprocates without her even meaning for it too, greedily pulling him back in every time he withdraws his hips. She’s so wet from the foreplay and from the sex that her arousal coats his cock, her folds, and the insides of her thick thighs in a slick sheen. When Roy notices the wetness, he groans, brow furrowing and face burning bright red with pleasure. Her desire has the same effect on him that it has on her. Equivalent exchange- it’s only fair. 

 

Riza stares at him between the tears and between the thrusts that have her seeing stars, admiring how his face contorts with ecstasy, admiring how the moonlight brings out the beautiful color in his eyes and in his flushed skin. The sight combined with his praises and with the thickness of his cock spearing into her is enough to make her tumble over the edge quickly.

 

Riza doesn’t need to tell Roy that she’s finished- he knows her body’s cues well enough from the way that her pussy flutters and squeezes his length to the way that she grasps at him with her small hands for purchase. But the orgasm only seems to encourage him to fuck her harder, with more drive, because he’s burying his face in between her breasts and biting at them like a man starved as soon as its registered. To be so overwhelmed that she can’t so much as think is exactly what she needed after today, and that seems to be exactly what she’s getting. 

 

“Roy,” Riza weakly whines, overstimulation starting to take over her. The pleasure is hot and heavy, bordering on pain, yet she finds herself reaching between her own legs again to try to draw another orgasm out of herself. Roy’s thrusts are becoming erratic and desperate, a sure sign that he’s getting close, but she doesn’t think she can take the relentless pace for too much longer. “Please cum-”

 

“Yeah? You want me cum inside you?” Roy grunts. His hands are on her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh, leaving angry red marks in their wake. Anything else- the guilt, the stress, the insecurities- it’s all forgotten in the background. All she can think about is him and the way that he makes her feel. “Tell me you want it, Riza.”

 

“I want it, Roy,” Riza responds immediately, too absorbed in the throes of what they’re doing to let her pride hold her back. She’s desperate to give him what he needs, to make him feel as good as he makes her feel- and if her words will accomplish that, she’ll tell him whatever he needs to hear. “Please, I want you to-”

 

She can’t even finish before she’s cumming again, body tightening and twitching around his. He holds her up, even as he gives her everything he has, filling her to the brim with his seed. And in the aftermath, Roy slumps back against the headboard at the same time that Riza slumps forward into him. For a moment, all she can hear is the sound of her own heartbeat in her ears. 

 

“I love you,” Roy sighs the words against her shoulder, holding her tight with trembling hands.

 

“I love you, too.”

 

They don’t speak after that. They don’t need to, really. 

 

Roy gently lifts Riza off of him, helping her onto the other side of the bed where she lies on her back. She works to catch her breath, her heart racing and her head pounding, while Roy cleans them up. He joins her back in bed moments after, pulling the lush blankets over their warm bodies. Riza allows her eyes to fall shut, sleep already consuming her. The last thing she remembers is the sound of Roy’s heartbeat as he pulls her into his chest- and, somehow, the lunchtime debacle is long forgotten.

Notes:

Sorry this chapter was so much longer than the others- I just got the idea for the smut scene and ran with it. Thank you to my Discord friends who encouraged me to go ahead and write it despite my initial apprehensions about the body worship coming off a little too strong, and thank you to everyone here for reading! <3

Chapter 12

It’s not entirely unusual for Roy to wake up thinking about Maes Hughes. It starts with a dream, or maybe a nightmare- of him, Riza, and Maes lying in the dirt during the war, watching the sunset. They’re surrounded by other soldiers, the scent of cheap alcohol, blood, and sweat thick in the air. It feels like old times, at least until Roy wakes up to Riza staring at him with concern etched into her features. 

 

She asks if he had a nightmare, and Roy tells her he doesn’t remember. It’s a lie that neither of them acknowledge.

 

Usually, Roy is able to shake off the thoughts of Maes pretty quickly. It’s horrible, really. Maes is dead and Roy can’t even be bothered to want to think about him. But it hurts too much, the wound still raw and infected with something sorrowful even after all these years. Thinking about Maes only rubs salt into it, so he tries to dull the unwelcome thoughts however he can- before, it was alcohol- now, it’s work. 

 

Today is a little different, though. Riza insists on stopping at the local tea shop before work. Roy hates going there because of the memories- memories of dropping in with Maes at odd hours of the night when Elicia was first born. The other man constantly took night shifts so that Gracia could recover from the birth, and he’d drag Roy with him to get tea, sitting across from him with utter exhaustion written across his face as he held his cup with a shaky hand and rocked a fussy Elicia in one arm. Nightmares from the war kept Roy awake, anyway, so he would tag along.

 

Regret tears through him when he thinks about it. He wishes he’d been there more often. Listened more intently to Maes’ words. Reacted with more enthusiasm to his family pictures. Offered to watch Elicia here and there. He had considered it multiple times, but he opted not to- everything he touches, everyone he loves, seems to die if he dares to get too close. He couldn’t dare lay his bloodstained hands on an innocent baby.

 

And now he’s here, with Riza, with their child due to arrive in less than six months. He could cry just thinking about it. It’s hard not to.

 

He’s silent during the entire date and even more so when they get to central command. Riza knows that something is wrong with him, but she doesn’t dare pry. Unlike her, he doesn’t open up when pushed to do so- he stonewalls, and she knows that. 

 

They start their work day, which has Roy relieved at first, but everything seems to remind him of Maes; the scent of a coworker’s cologne, one of his soldiers showing off pictures of his children in the cafeteria. Falman shows up in a new pair of glasses that look exactly like the ones Maes used to wear and something in Roy almost snaps. 

 

By the time that midday hits, he’s struggling to keep everything inside. At the very least, he’s mostly alone- Riza is giving a group of their subordinates a briefing for a field mission, Fuery is off instructing a mandatory class on surveillance skills, and Falman and Breda are in a meeting with some of the other senior military staff. Normally Roy would be with the latter two, but he told them to handle it on their own.

 

Now, it’s only him and Havoc in his office. Havoc is sat at a table, doing a half-assed job of sorting through mission reports. Roy sits at his own desk, filling out a crossword instead of working. He’s usually able to blaze through them, but today, he can’t find the words.

 

“So? How are you holding up, man?”

 

Havoc’s voice breaks the tense silence. Roy almost drops his pencil, but is able to collect himself to set it down and clear his throat before glancing over at Havoc. The man looks genuinely worried, cobalt eyes full of concern and curiosity. 

 

“Why are you asking me that?” Roy questions, wondering if his sullen mood has been that noticeable. 

 

He didn’t think that anyone other than Riza would notice. 

 

“I mean, I know Hawkeye’s the one that’s pregnant, but you matter, too,” Oh. Not about Maes. “You’ve been taking care of yourself, right?”

 

“Of course,” Roy answers.

 

“And you’ve been getting ready for the baby?”

 

‘Getting ready for the baby’...? That feels like an understatement. All Roy has been doing since he found out about the pregnancy has been ‘getting ready for the baby’, from moving Riza in to his house, dealing with the public’s opinions on their relationship, attending the prenatal appointments, and planning the wedding, he’s been swamped. But it’s then that he realizes that he has not, in fact, been ‘getting ready for the baby’. He’s been doing things to make sure that the baby will arrive safely, to two parents who are married so they won’t be deemed a bastard, but he hasn’t done shit to prepare for what comes after that.

 

“It’s not like you to pry into my personal matters like this,” Roy attempts to dodge the question, the words coming after an awkwardly long pause. “You’ve been doing a lot of that lately.”

 

Havoc takes a moment to respond, so Roy sips at the cold coffee that sits on his desk. 

 

“It’s also not like you and Hawkeye to go and have an accident baby, but here we are,” Blunt and straight to the point as always, Havoc’s words nearly make Roy spit out his drink. 

 

Roy clears his throat and sets the cup back down, averting his gaze. 

 

“...Fair point.”

 

Silence again, and then, Havoc is standing up and pacing around the room. He reaches for the pack of cigarettes in his chest pocket, as if thinking about lighting one, only for his hand to fall. Roy notices that he’s been smoking a lot less since finding out about the pregnancy, at least when they’re all at work. 

 

“Kids really change things, huh?” Havoc questions and takes the cigarette box out of his pocket so he can anxiously fiddle with it. 

 

“How would you know?”

 

“Before I moved here for work, my best friend at home had a baby with a girl he’d been with since they were kids- swore up and down that it’d only make their relationship stronger.”

 

Roy pauses. Havoc doesn’t talk about himself very often, so the story catches him by total surprise. Roy finds that he’s unsatisfied when Havoc doesn’t tell him the rest, so he asks-

 

“Well? Did it go the way he thought it would?”

 

“Ha, no. Of course not,” Havoc laughs, and Roy feels his stomach sink. “Guy didn’t even know how to change a diaper.”

 

And Roy suddenly realizes that he doesn’t know how to change a diaper… Or how to feed a baby a bottle… Or how to rock one to sleep, or how to hold one. He suddenly regrets not ever offering to babysit Elicia even more, and his thoughts drift back to Maes once again. 

 

“What, like you do?” Roy retorts, low and gruff.

 

This conversation is making him anxious. He goes back to trying to finish his crossword, but the answers still won’t come to mind. They feel even further away than they did before. 

 

“Damn straight. You don’t have five baby sisters and not know how to change a diaper.”

 

Right. Of course, that makes sense. Havoc has what is essentially a litter of siblings, all of which come to visit him frequently. Meanwhile, Roy’s parents abandoned him- he doesn’t even know if he has any siblings. The closest he has are Vanessa and the other women at Madame Christmas’s bar, but they’re all significantly older than him. 

 

“Well, I’m sure it’s not that hard to learn…”

 

“Maybe not, but there’s a gazillion other things you have to learn, too,” Havoc points out, and Roy shifts uncomfortably in his desk chair.

 

“Right…”

 

“And he just expected his poor wife to show him everything, all the while she was trying to figure it all out, too.”

 

“That’s a normal part of parenthood,” Roy defends, but he knows that’s not true. He thinks of Riza and frowns. She was always rather isolated, growing up in the country with no siblings and no extended family. She’s probably never had to deal with a baby in her life, and Roy finds that he’s suddenly terrified. Neither of them know how to do this. “...So? Are they alright now?”

 

“Oh, no,” Havoc chuckles and leans back against the front of Roy’s desk. “They got divorced before the kid had even started elementary school.”

 

“People divorce all the time, Havoc. Just because your friend got divorced doesn’t mean that it was the kid’s fault. They probably had underlying issues that they didn’t resolve before the baby was born,” Roy grumbles, but he can’t get the idea out of the back of his mind now. What if the baby comes and he doesn’t do a good enough job? What if Riza ends up taking on too much? Hell, what if she finally gets tired of him and leaves? “What a stupid thing to tell an expecting father about. I love Riza, and I already love our child, so… We’ll be fine.”

 

“Sometimes loving each other isn’t enough. Relationships take more than that to work, especially when there’s a tiny human involved who doesn’t give a shit that you’re mad or tired or whatever else. I’m just saying, it’s worth mentally preparing yourself for so you don’t screw this up. I just… As your friend, I want to make sure that you two are going to be okay after this.”

“...I’m not going to screw anything up,” Roy sighs, forcing the most even expression he can onto his face. “Now get back to work, Havoc. I don’t pay you to meddle in my personal life.”

 

“Whatever you say, boss.”

 

~

 

Hours pass, but Roy doesn’t find himself feeling any better. Riza has been wonderful to have around, of course- she notices his moods and tries her best to accommodate him just like he does for her. Roy notes that she’s been sneaking in comforting touches throughout the day- a kiss on the head when no one is looking, a brush of their fingers when passing papers and coffee cups, a reassuring hand carefully placed on his shoulder. It’s nice, but it doesn’t make things any easier. 

 

When she leaves to go get the team drinks from the cafeteria, Roy takes a break from his work and stands from his desk so he can peer out the window of his office. It’s a beautiful day, sunny and bright, clear and pleasantly warm. A memory flashes through his mind, unbidden, of he and Maes ditching work one day to take Elicia to the park together. And he frowns, because he’ll never get to experience that again. 

 

“Did you know that, statistically, married couples with one member in the military are sixty percent more likely to divorce than a civilian couple once the child is born?”

 

Roy turns around at the words, though he tries not to show that he’s paying too much attention. Fuery, on the other hand, blinks and looks at Falman like he’s just grown another head. The two of them are sat at their desks, along with Havoc and Breda, who have looked up from their work to glance at Falman as well. 

“Uh, no?” Fuery responds.

 

“It makes sense; long work hours, the looming potential for war, strict military rules and regulations,” Falman casually responds. In his lap is a statistics book- something he tends to read during his spare time. “Kind of depressing to read about, though.”

 

“I really don’t think we should be talking about this,” Fuery, thank god , interjects. 

 

Falman looks to Roy with an apologetic expression.

 

“Oh. Sorry.”

 

“I don’t care,” Roy huffs. “We’re not a statistic, and I’m not worried, but if any of you say anything like that around General Hawkeye, I will light your asses on fire. She is pregnant, and regardless of whether or not she’ll admit it, she is scared . The last thing she needs is to hear that horseshit and get it in her head that this baby’s going to change things.”

 

“But the baby is going to change things,” Breda interjects, brow furrowed. “Not to say that I think you guys are going to get divorced or anything like that, but it is… Well, an entire fucking baby. I expected General Hawkeye to stonewall us- that’s just what she does- but I’m surprised that you’re so calm about this.”

 

“That’s what I said,” Havoc snorts, and whatever composure Roy might’ve had left seems to vanish in an instant.

 

“I’m calm because I know we can handle this. It’s a baby, not a fucking nuclear weapon. What do you all take me for?” Roy raises his voice before he can stop himself, anger and fear and sorrow running hot through his veins. “You think that just because my parents weren’t around that I’m going to be a deadbeat dad or something? Because if that’s the case, each and every one of you can get fucked!”

 

At that, the room goes so silent that you could hear a pin drop. Roy flushes bright red. 

 

He’s never even told them about his childhood. 

 

And now, they’re all staring at him, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

 

Roy gathers his things in a hurry and storms out of the room, struggling to force down the hot, fiery embarrassment that wells up in his chest. Storming through the hallway, he comes across Riza, who is on her way back to the office with a drink carrier full of cups held in one hand. Her gaze flickers to him, curious and concerned as they pause to talk to one another.

 

“I’m leaving,” He says, short and curt, hoping that she won’t ask questions.

 

Seemingly understanding, Riza just raises an eyebrow at him.

 

“Is everything alright?”

 

“I’m fine. Take the car home when your shift is over. I’ll call myself a cab.”

 

“Alright, then…”

 

And Riza doesn’t seem to believe that he’s fine, but she begrudgingly accepts his words and turns back to his office regardless. 

 

Roy lets out a small sigh, pulling his bag over his shoulder by the strap.

 

It’s been too long since he visited Maes’ grave.

 

~

 

Regrettably, Roy finds himself there for hours. The sun is setting, the sky painted with soft orange and pink as he gently caresses Maes’ headstone with a gloved hand. The grass he’s sat on top of has grown over where the hole was dug all those years ago, and if not for the unevenness in the dirt, Roy wouldn’t even know that his best friend’s body is buried six feet underneath him. 

 

Roy allows his eyes to fall shut for a moment. His heart is pounding, slow and hard against his chest. When he opens his eyes again, part of him hopes that Maes will be there, sitting next to him and rambling about his family. Instead, the graveyard is just as empty as it was before. And Maes Hughes is still very much dead. That’s a fact. One that he has to remind himself of more often than he’d like to admit.

 

Roy can’t say he fully understands why, but he’s grieving Maes more than ever. Maybe because now, more than ever, Roy needs him. He needs his stupidly loud, over the top stories. He needs his happy, absentminded chatter. He needs his reassurances. He needs his love and affection, his advice and his comfort. Today, had Maes been around, he would’ve told the rest of the team to keep their mouths shut before Roy got to his boiling point. A couple months ago, when Roy discovered the pregnancy, Maes would’ve been thrilled. But he’s gone, and there’s a noticeable gap in the places that Maes would normally fill. 

 

“God, I’m going to have a baby, Maes,” Roy shakes his head, gaze trained on the dates carved into the stone in front of him. He can’t believe Maes has been gone for that long. Then again, the passage of time is evident. Roy can’t really remember what Maes’ voice sounded like anymore. Can’t remember exactly what his face looked like down to every minute detail like he used to be able to. He can look at photos, but it’s not the same as having Maes in front of him- living, breathing, laughing. A shiver tears through Roy when he remembers that Maes’ body is beneath him, dead and lifeless in the ground, a shell of the man he once knew. “What am I going to do? You always seemed so happy, made it sound so easy… I have no idea what the hell I’m doing. I’m nothing like you… What if I screw this up? What if she leaves me?”

 

“Roy?”

 

Roy nearly jumps at the sound of his name. He rushes to stand from the grass and turn around to face whoever it is, half-expecting to see Riza. Instead, it’s Gracia standing in front of him. Her sandy blond hair has grown out to her shoulders in the last couple years, and she looks a little older than she did the last time Roy saw her. Roy bets he looks older, too. Grief has a way of aging you. 

 

“Gracia,” Roy greets, praying that she didn’t hear the things he was saying. Her expression looks even and measured, so he assumes that she didn’t. Roy runs his gaze over her- her soft green eyes, the stress lines on her face, the way that her clothes are just a little too loose on her frame. And he realizes that, for once, Elicia isn’t next to her. “It’s good to see you. Where’s Elicia?”

 

“She’s staying the night with my parents. I thought it would be a good opportunity to come clean things up here, but I see you’ve already beat me to it,” Gracia explains, looking behind Roy and at the gravestone. 

 

Roy had cleaned it and redecorated it with fresh flowers upon his arrival. He suddenly feels bad for doing so, as if it isn’t his place. Maybe it isn’t. 

 

“That’s my bad.”

 

“It’s been a long time since we ran into each other like this,” Gracia moves to stand next to Roy, placing a warm hand on his shoulder and offering a small smile, but her eyes stay trained on where Maes’ name is carved. “I’ve been wanting to congratulate you on everything, but I haven’t gotten the chance to see you since your promotion.”

 

Roy feels a pang of guilt hit him. He really doesn’t visit them enough. Maes would surely be disappointed in him for not being a better support system. 

 

“Don’t worry about it.”

 

“I just feel like I’ve missed so much,” Gracia sighs, and Roy forces himself to smile back at her. 

 

“I know I don’t visit nearly enough. I’m sorry. I’ll try to come by to see you and Elicia soon,” It’s a promise that he intends to follow up on, but he doesn’t want to linger on the subject, so he changes it instead. “Did you get the wedding invitation in the mail?”

 

“I did! I’m glad the two of you are finally settling down,” Gracis’s smile widens, and her gaze finally falls to Roy’s face. “Elicia and I will be there, of course.”

 

“About that, I know it’s short notice, but are you alright with Elicia being our flower girl? If you can find her a dress, we’ll pay for it.”

 

“Of course. She’ll be happy you asked,” Gracia answers, much to Roy’s relief. That’s one more thing ticked off of his constantly expanding to-do list. Riza will be happy to hear it. Roy briefly wonders what she’s doing right now- if she’s upset at him for leaving so suddenly, if she has any idea where he’s at or what he’s doing, if she’s eaten dinner. She’s a horrible eater when left to her own devices. In the midst of his thoughts, Roy almost doesn’t hear Gracia’s next words. “You know, you don’t have to keep doing this… It’s been a long time.”

 

Both of their gazes are trained on where Maes is buried- on the ground beneath their feet. Roy understands what Gracia means without her having to explain. 

 

“It’s not out of obligation,” Roy answers, stiff. Of course, not too many people would understand why he still does this after all the time that’s passed since Maes’ death. That’s why he doesn’t tell anyone about it. That’s why he tries to visit when he knows no one else will be here. “I better go so you can have some time alone with him.”

 

“You don’t have to.”

 

“No, I really should get home before Riza starts to worry,” Roy says and turns to leave. “Call me if you need or Elicia anything.”

 

“Roy, wait,” Gracia calls out, and suddenly, she’s reaching out to grab Roy by the wrist.

 

“What is it?”

 

“I’m sorry for eavesdropping- I really didn’t mean to, but I heard what you said to him, so… Congratulations. I won’t tell anyone,” Gracia pulls Roy into her arms for a tight hug. He doesn’t know how to respond at first, shocked by the affection, but after a moment he’s able to wrap his arms back around her and settle into the comforting touch. When Gracia is done, she pulls back, her hands on his shoulders and her smile reassuring. “And I just know that you’re going to be the best dad. I’m only sad that Maes couldn’t be here to see it happen.”

 

“Yeah,” Roy swallows down the emotions that threaten to spill out, his lips drawn together tight and tears welling up in his charcoal eyes. “Me too.”

 

~

 

Roy gets home right after the sun is finished setting, walking into the house and shutting the door behind him. Before Riza started living with him, he would’ve come home and drank himself to sleep after a day like this, but he can’t do that now- not with her around, not with an innocent child on the way. He’ll just have to deal with it.

 

“I’m home,” He calls out as he kicks his shoes off by the doorway.

 

“Welcome back,” Riza calls back, padding into the living room from the kitchen. She’s already out of uniform; loose hair, a blue silk nightgown, and fuzzy slippers. Roy can see the beginning of a baby bump against the thin material of the silk, and as she approaches him, he gently rests his hand on top of it. She still feels the same for the most part, but it’s a little different. Roy lets out a sigh when she pulls away to loosely wrap her arms around his neck. “Are you doing any better? I know that going and seeing him has never yielded consistent results.”

 

Roy’s stomach sinks a bit. He knows that Riza isn’t judging him, but he doesn’t want her to have to manage his emotions when she’s already dealing with so much. 

 

“You knew?”

 

“Of course I did,” Riza answers, smiling something bittersweet. 

 

“...I see.”

 

“Are you okay? What do you need?”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“You look like you’re about to cry,” Riza whispers, honey-hued eyes running over his face- once, and then twice, full of concern. Roy is about to cry. He’s been fighting off the urge to do so all day. “It’s okay to cry.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

 

Roy takes a step forward to push past her, but she doesn’t let him leave. For a moment, they just stand there. And then, he’s crumpling against her, practically falling into her arms as she wraps them around his frame and holds him close. For the first time in a long time, Roy cries, weak and unrestrained into the crook between Riza’s neck and shoulder. 

 

“I’m here, Roy. Cry, scream, talk to me about it- do whatever you need to.” 

 

“I miss him, Riza,” Roy says as he struggles (and fails) to collect himself. Now that he’s started, he can’t stop. The tears keep falling, and his cries have turned into full on hiccupping sobs. It’s embarrassing. He should be embarrassed. He can’t remember the last time he’s cried like this. He doesn’t want to cry like this, especially in front of anyone else, but Riza is here, holding him, pulling away just the slightest bit to stare down at him with nothing but love and concern in her honey-hued eyes- and he just can’t stop or think to feel embarrassed when she looks at him like that . “I told him I’d never settle down, and you know, he always told me I was wrong. He swore that you and I would end up together, and he was right… I wanted him to be the best man at our wedding.”

 

“Oh, I know,” Riza sighs, pulling him closer. He lets out shaky breaths against the crook between her neck and shoulder as she rubs his back. “I miss him, too, Roy.”

 

“I wish I could see him again. I just want to talk to him once - to tell him about everything that’s happened since he died. I want to tell him about how strong Gracia’s been, about how smart Elicia is now- god, he would always brag about how smart she was, I know he’d be so proud if he knew the amazing young lady that she’s grown into,” Roy screws his eyes shut, trying to will away the tears, but they just keep coming. Riza presses a kiss into the top of his hair and uses her spare hand to soothingly run her fingers through the ends. “…I can’t even tell you all the things I’d give up just to hear his voice again, Riza. It’s been so long that I’ve forgotten what he sounds like, what he looks like, nd it scares me. I feel guilty for it.”

 

“Roy, it’s been years. You can’t feel guilty-”

 

“I know, I know. It’s… I’ve been a mess today. I know that if he were here, he’d know just what to say to make everything better-”

 

“Breathe,” Riza reminds him, and he does, shakily inhaling. “Maes always had the best advice, didn’t he?”

 

“He really did, and I’m… I’m scared I’m going to screw this up without him here to help me, Riza,” Roy finally admits, and he feels Riza’s body tense when he does. “I’m not like him. I’m nothing like him. I want to be a dad, and I want to be a damn good one, but I don’t think I’m going to be and I’m terrified that you’ll leave-”

 

“Stop it. Stop that,” Riza lightly interjects, pushing Roy away. His stomach sinks, at first, but then she’s holding his face in her hands and staring into his eyes. “We both know that if Maes were here, he’d never tell you any of that. You know what I think?”

 

“What?” Roy sniffles. 

 

“I think he’d tell you that you’re going to do a good job. I think he’d be so happy for us,” Riza whispers, leaning in and resting her forehead against his. “I also think that, even though the baby’s not here yet... You’re going to be the best husband, and an even better father. You don’t need to be exactly like Maes to do this. We’ll find our own way. And I’ll tell you that as many times as you need to hear it, Roy. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

“You asked what I needed,” Roy lets out a sigh, placing his hands on top of hers. “I think that was it.”

 

“I’m glad,” Riza smiles again, wiping the tears from his face with her thumbs. “You look tired.”

 

“That’s because I am.”

 

“Then let’s eat and go to bed. What do you want from Panda House?”

 

At that, Roy chuckles, pulling back to collect himself as he wipes the remaining moisture on his face away with his sleeve. 

 

“I’ll take my usual.”

 

Riza turns to go make the call, but before she can, Roy is pulling her back in for another hug.

 

“Roy? Are you alright?”

 

“I’m alright now. Or… Better, at least,” He says, holding her tight and using one hand to brush away a stray lock of blond hair. “Thank you, Riza.”

 

At that, Riza melts into his arms, a small sigh leaving her.

 

“Any time.”

Chapter 13

Riza isn’t sure why she feels so nervous. 

 

It’s the first time she and Roy have made the long drive out to Grumman’s country home since Roy’s promotion to Fuhrer, and she tries to attribute it to the long journey as she sits in the passenger’s seat of the car, but she knows that’s not entirely it. Part of her knows it’s because they waited until the very last moment- the night before the wedding- to ask Grumman to walk her down the aisle. She had meant to ask sooner, really, but with the wedding planning, the pregnancy, and their work, time had slipped away faster than she could reasonably be expected to keep up with.

 

But that’s not entirely it, either. 

 

Before she was born, her mother and father had cut Grumman off for his involvement with the Amestrian military. She didn’t get to know him until after she fought in Ishval as a result of this, and though he’s proven that he’s a loving grandfather- trying to protect her with his position when he was Fuhrer, keeping trinkets and photos of her around, and showing support for her and Roy’s relationship before they came out to the public- Riza can’t help but be anxious around him at times.

 

It’s not easy, after so many years of being neglected, to accept love from someone who so clearly wants to be a father figure to her. But she’s trying. When she’d made the call to ask to come over, he had practically shouted his excitement down the speaker of the phone, blurting out a time for them to come over with barely contained enthusiasm. And yet, despite his eagerness, Riza finds herself tense throughout the entire car ride. 

 

When they arrive, Grumman is already standing on the porch, beaming with a vibrant energy that seems too strong for a man of his old age. The moment they step out of the car, Grumman pulls her into a tight hug before turning to Roy and smacking him hard on the shoulder.

 

“Well, well, well! About time you two came and visited this old man,” Grumman grins before grabbing Riza’s hand. The touch makes her jump, and she almost forces her wrist away, but she manages to force herself to stay still so that Grumman can inspect her engagement ring. “Ah, it’s stunning! Only the most beautiful ring for my beautiful granddaughter. It’s about time you two stubborn fools got married- I was starting to think it wasn’t going to happen until I was rolling in my grave. Now, hurry up and get to work on giving me a great grandchild!”

 

It takes everything in Riza not to burst out into laughter at that. Oh, if only he knew…

 

“That might happen sooner than you think if you keep talking like that,” Roy chuckles, and Riza considers slapping him for it, but she doesn’t want to give herself away- not yet.

 

Minutes later, Riza finds herself sitting on Grumman’s couch, watching as the two men play a game of chess. Grumman effortlessly dominates the board, barely needing to think before moving his pieces. Riza can tell that it’s been a while since Roy has played, because he’s very clearly frazzled, making rushed moves and gritting his teeth every time he realizes that he’s made a mistake. Their conversation shifts from wedding preparations to politics and then back again. 

 

“Don’t you think that the wedding should be public?” Grumman questions, slouching and holding his chin in his hands as he stares forward at the board.

 

“Not if she doesn’t want it to be,” Roy grumbles, moving a pawn forward one space.

 

A panicked look crosses Roy's face after he puts the piece down, as if he’s realized that he’s screwed up. When Riza sees the smirk that takes over Grumman’s lips, she realizes that Roy must have screwed up.

 

“If you want to remain as the Fuhrer, Roy-boy,” Grumman pauses, taking Roy’s last remaining rook with his knight. “You’re going to have to start making sacrifices.”

 

“I’ve made plenty of those to get here,” That much is true. Roy and Riza have both sacrificed blood, sweat, tears, and most of their early youth in their pursuit of Roy’s dreams. That was what they agreed to, of course, to atone for their sins. But they’re so close to completing the list of goals they’ve set for themselves, and for the first time in her life, Riza wants to move forward for the sake of the family they’re starting. She wants to prioritize herself; her wants, her needs. And she knows that Roy feels the same. “I would like to think that the sacrifices are coming to an end.”

 

“I suppose,” Grumman says, chewing his lip and tilting his head when Roy moves his queen after a little too long. Roy seems to be buzzing with anxiety, because he’s making stupid, wreckless moves. Grumman takes Roy’s queen with a bishop that’s been lying there waiting to attack for at least three turns. “Just be careful. If you keep pissing people off, they’ll come after you. I had to ward off a handful of assassination attempts during my reign.”

 

Riza remembers that well. The first time, it was a scorned Brigadier General who had been charged for being involved with everything that occurred on The Promised Day; he’d escaped jail and broken into the Fuhrer’s mansion in a fit of rage with the intent to kill, only for Grumman- still surprisingly alert and skilled even though he hasn’t faced combat in years- to shoot him at point blank range with an old military rifle. 

 

The second time was while the three of them were on a train to the south so Grumman could oversee military training- a hired assassin had attacked them, only to get his kneecaps blown out by Riza’s gun. After that, the instances started to blur into one another to the point that they became comical, with Team Mustang taking bets on which one of them could apprehend the attackers first. 

 

“I think I can handle just about anything,” Roy’s words are a little too fast and a little too defensive. He’s cornered. Frustrated and unsure of what move to make but not wanting to show any weakness, he aimlessly pushes another pawn forward one space. “I’m not going to die so easily.”

 

“If you insist. Just make sure that my granddaughter is taken care of.”

 

“I can take care of myself,” Riza lightly objects as one of Grumman’s many parrots lands on her head and tries to nest in her hair. “You should worry about yourself, grandpa. These birds are probably more of a danger to you than anyone could be to Roy.”

 

With that, Grumman laughs and moves his queen to the side. Checkmate . 

 

Roy lets out a sigh of defeat and cleans up the board. Grumman stands up, retreating to the kitchen to pour them all a cup of tea. The bird flies away from Riza, following Grumman closely.

 

“Are you still going to tell him the news?” Roy whispers, and Riza knows what he means- they’ve talked about it- but she still hesitates regardless.

 

Part of her had wanted to inform Grumman of the baby during this visit.

 

Since this whole thing started, all Riza has wanted has been her parents. Any parents. But it’s a complicated thing to want when one of them is long gone and the other was never much of a father to begin with. Still, she can’t get the idea out of her head of telling them and seeing their faces light up. Deep down, she knows that her father would be disappointed- in her, in what she did during the war, in her relationship with Roy, in the unexpected pregnancy. She would tell him and his face would fall. 

 

Her gaze flickers to the kitchen entryway, where Grumman can be heard brewing tea. He’s happy- proud of them, even. And Riza is terrified that his face would fall like her father’s would if she told him. The tiny, insecure, neglected little girl in the back of her mind screams at her not to do it. She tells herself that Grumman might not be as thrilled as she hopes, that he might not look at her the same. 

 

So she shakes her head ‘no’. Roy stands from the floor and moves to sit down next to her on the couch, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder and leaning over to press a kiss against her forehead. 

 

“That’s alright. Maybe some other time soon.”

~

 

When they get home, Roy insists on filing and painting Riza’s nails, claiming that ‘they should look nice for the pictures’. He’s agreed to do her hair and makeup for her in the morning, too, so Riza knows that this is only the beginning. She’s barely able to muster up a halfhearted complaint before joining him on the living room couch, knowing that there’s no point in really trying to argue when he’s already so determined to take care of her. 

 

She watches as he lays out the supplies on the coffee table with careful precision, his brow furrowing as he examines the two bottles of polish he’s struggling to decide between; ivory to match her dress, or sparkling gold to match her ring. He’d asked for her opinion, but Riza has never had an eye for that sort of thing and told him to choose. In the end, after careful deliberation, he goes with the gold. 

 

He acts as if this is another game of chess, not just him pampering her the night before their wedding. And despite herself, despite her pride and how much she would normally hate being fussed over like this, she lets him paint her finger nails with minimal protest. Because this is how Roy expresses his love. It’s in the small things- the daily affirmations, the way he insists she rests and eats when she doesn’t want to, the way he brings her water before she even realizes she’s thirsty, the way he looks at her when he thinks she isn’t watching. 

 

Now, with her fingernails drying, she lounges on the far end of the couch with her legs stretched out over the middle cushion and her bare feet resting in Roy’s lap. He sits at the opposite end, focused on painting her toenails with almost comical focus. The bottle of sparkling gold polish is precariously balanced on the armrest, the brush steady in his fingers as he carefully coats each nail.

 

Black Hayate is sprawled across Riza’s lap, his head on her stomach and his eyes shut as steady breaths fall from his nostrils. He’s too big to be laying on her and also too stubborn to care. Riza knows that she should move him to avoid the coat of black hair that’s going to be on her clothes when he inevitably gets up, but she doesn’t have the heart to when he looks so content. 

 

Thinking back on it, Black Hayate’s sudden change of behavior should’ve been the first sign that she was pregnant. Before it was even late enough to register on a test, he had gone through a protective shift, constantly draping himself across her stomach and barking at anyone who had dared to get close to her aside from Roy or Rebecca. Rather than sleeping on the floor or next to her, Black Hayate has assumed a new spot at the foot of the bed, staying wide awake and staring at the door. It’s only when Roy and Riza wake up in the morning that he rests. 

 

Riza wants to pet the old dog, but she’s careful not to, holding her hands in front of her face. Her gaze flickers from her perfectly painted fingernails to where Roy is sitting across from her. He carefully finishes her last toe, his expression one of deep concentration. 

 

Then, he speaks. 

 

“So, about the baby… Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”

 

Riza pauses at the question, somewhat taken aback. Honestly, she hadn’t thought about it. As long as the baby is nothing like Selim Bradley - all sadistic and creepy with those soulless pits for eyes- she’ll be content with whoever they are. 

 

“I don’t know. I hadn’t considered what the gender might be,” She admits, tilting her head slightly. “What do you think?”

 

“Well, obviously I have no way of being able to tell. I’ve heard people say that moms just… Know,” Roy explains, and Riza snorts at the notion. 

 

“It’s probably not that hard for a mother to guess when there’s a fifty percent chance of them being right.”

 

“Okay, let me rephrase my question,” Roy chuckles as he closes the nail polish bottle. He sets it on the end table next to the abandoned nail file and the white polish before gently pushing Riza’s legs off of his lap. “What do you want them to be?”

 

“I don’t care as long as they’re healthy and happy.”

 

“Well, I’ll be content either way,” Roy agrees with a nod, but then a slow, almost sheepish grin tugs at the corners of his lips. “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t really want a little girl.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah,” Roy responds, as if it were obvious. Riza would’ve guessed that he’d want a miniature version of him, all dark hair and intelligent charcoal eyes. Certainly not a little girl. Riza knows that’s not what her own father had wanted in the slightest. “Why do you look so surprised?”

 

“I don’t know, I guess I was under the impression that most men wanted boys…”

 

“A boy would be great, too, but I want a girl so that we can name her Elizabeth like you said,” Roy says, and at that, Riza freezes. 

 

A memory runs through her mind; of the two of them in her bedroom at her father’s estate. Of course, they weren’t doing anything nefarious. He was sixteen and she was thirteen. But they had been good friends, and a tradition of them sneaking around at night to spend time together formed quickly under her father’s neglectful care. She still remembers how fuzzy and warm it felt to lie in her twin-sized bed with him right there next to her.

 

They had been innocent, not yet scarred by war, full of idealized dreams of parenthood. They thought if those dreams came to fruition, it would heal the issues from their own childhoods- something Riza realizes now is foolish as she thinks back to Roy’s teenage ramblings about wanting to become a father and about the names he’d love to bestow upon his child. Back when things were still so simple.

 

Whispering it into the dark, she had told him then, that if she ever had a daughter, she would name her Elizabeth. It was her mother’s name. Her own name, too, at one point. But after her mother’s death, her father had refused to let her use it in any capacity. Refused to let her be anything that reminded him of what he’d lost. And so, she became Riza before she even really knew what it was like to be Elizabeth.

 

Deep down, she had never stopped wanting to reclaim it in some way. She didn’t think that Roy had paid that much attention when she’d told him. 

 

“Roy… That was when we were kids. I can’t believe you even remember that,” Riza whispers, brow furrowing together. 

 

“Of course I remember. It was important to you, so… Even though I didn’t have those feelings for you then, it became important to me, too.”

 

“We don’t have to name the baby after my mother.”

 

“It wouldn’t just be after your mom- it would be after you, too,” Roy insists, but Riza shakes her head.

 

As much as she loves the idea… As much as it warms her heart… This is Roy’s child, too, and she wants him to have some input. 

 

“It’s conceited for me to name a child after myself and I said that when we were teenagers.”

 

“I don’t think it’s conceited,” Roy says before shifting closer to her, placing a hand on the small part of her stomach that isn’t covered by Black Hayate, his eyes full of admiration as he peers up at her. “You’re the one giving birth. You should at least get some sort of consolation prize for that.”

 

“Isn’t the consolation prize the baby itself?” Riza retorts with a quiet laugh, to which Roy shrugs.

 

“I guess.”

 

“Look… If you really want to name the baby Elizabeth, I guess we can,” Riza relents. “But who knows if it’ll even be a girl?”

 

“I guess we don’t know. But if it’s a boy, we could just use the masculine version.”

 

Riza raises an eyebrow. She had always assumed that, if they ever had a little boy together, they would name him after Maes. 

 

“What would the masculine version of Elizabeth even be?” She questions.

 

“I don’t know… Elijah? Or Ezra? Maybe Ellis?”

 

“I hate all of those,” Riza says with a huff. The names aren’t that bad, but she doesn’t love them either, and she doesn’t want to name their child something that she has lackluster feelings towards. “How about this? If it’s a boy, we can name him Maes.”

 

Just like that, the smile on Roy’s face falls in an instant. Almost as if he can sense the discomfort, Black Hayate hops off of the couch and trots off to the kitchen to go get a drink of water. Roy can’t even respond at first. He just stares at her face, his gaze flickering towards where his hand rests on her stomach and then back up to her eyes. 

 

“Riza…” Roy says, his voice tight. He retracts his hand and crosses his arms over himself. “I’d love to, but… I can’t saddle our child with that kind of burden. I compare myself to Maes every single day. I don’t want anyone else to ever have to do the same.”

 

“I understand, but I think you should at least consider it as an option. We have five more months to think about it. That’s plenty of time.”

 

“Alright,” Roy lets out a sigh, standing up and offering his hand to her. “We should go to bed before it gets too late. We have a long day ahead of us.”

 

“You’re right,” Riza decides to drop the subject for now, taking Roy’s hand and allowing him to help her off of the couch.

 

With that, they go to bed for the night, Black Hayate following close behind them- but with the wedding in the morning, it proves impossible for either of them to get any sleep.

Chapter 14

Neither Roy nor Riza get any sleep leading up to the ceremony, despite their best efforts. 

 

Rebecca shows up at the house first thing in the morning to drag Riza away, which Roy is slightly displeased about considering that he’d planned to do her hair and makeup, but he doesn’t have time to voice his complaints when Havoc bursts into his room and starts grilling him about whether or not he’s memorized his vows, the rest of their team piling in right behind him.

 

Roy gets ready for the ceremony, surprised by just how… Attentive, his team is being. Fuery has made arrangements to drop Black Hayate off at doggy daycare for the day, Falman has been making constant phone calls from Roy’s phone to make sure that everything at the wedding is perfectly set up, Breda has been helping everyone with their hair and their suits, and Havoc has been doing literally everything else from managing security at the private event to insisting Roy read over his vows one more time. 

 

Roy supposes he shouldn’t be surprised that his team is at the top of their game, though. Today is important. 

 

There’s too much on the line; their security, their reputations. If the pregnancy slips to the wrong person, or if it’s somehow visible in Riza’s dress, it’ll be a nightmare. If a security issue arises, it’ll be a disaster. And it would be their luck for something to go wrong, which Roy doesn’t want, considering that it’s the most important day of their lives. He wants everything to be perfect, not only for his sake, but for Riza’s- a lovely day with their favorite people surrounding them, with amazing memories and photos that they’ll be able to share with their child when they’re older. 

 

“Look, Mustang, you’ve got nothing to worry about,” Havoc speaks, a little more jittery than usual. He’s somehow managed to kick his habit of smoking- at least in the general vicinity of Roy and Riza- since he found out about the pregnancy, and it makes him a bit of a snappy jerk at times, but Roy can’t say he doesn’t appreciate the consideration. “I’ll do a damn good job of making sure this goes off without a hitch. If anyone tries to mess this up for you and Hawkeye, I’ll shoot ‘em down- and if I somehow screw it up, Bec will have ‘em by the balls for daring to interrupt her bestie’s wedding.”

 

“Thank you, Havoc,” Roy says as he stares at his own reflection in the mirror. Havoc’s reassurances actually do manage to lift some of the unending weight off of his shoulders. His team- Havoc and Catalina included- has always stood by him and Riza, has always supported him with unending reliability and competence. With them at the wedding, unless there’s an astronomical fuck up, everything should be okay. “Really. I appreciate everything you’ve done.”

 

“Any time,” Havoc says with a crooked grin. “What do you think?”

 

Obviously, Roy is thinking a lot of things. He’s upset that Maes Hughes isn’t here doing this, instead of Jean Havoc- upset that he had to ask one of his team members instead of his closest friend to be his best man. Not that Havoc doesn’t deserve it, not that he isn’t doing a good job… But it still hurts. And Roy knows that it will hurt even more when he sees the empty chair they’ve saved for Maes, when Elicia throws flower petals down the aisle and instead of hearing the flash of Maes’ camera taking photos, he hears respectful silence.

 

It’s something he tries not to dwell on. He has too many things to be happy for today, to allow himself to be sad. Maes wouldn’t want him to spend his wedding day lamenting. He admires himself; to be honest, he looks damn good in his blue suit and matching tie, his hair neatly slicked back. It’ll probably be a struggle for Riza to keep her hands off of him. 

 

“Now, let’s get you to that aisle before your hair gel starts to wear off, yeah?”

 

“Yeah, sure. Are we all going together?”

 

“Might as well.”

 

~

 

The journey to the venue is short, but the drive feels like it takes forever. When Roy arrives, he’s relieved to find that no one has turned up uninvited- just their friends, very limited family, security, and a single photographer as well as a single journalist from the local radio station that Roy had allowed to attend for publicity purposes. 

 

Regardless, the whole thing is a blur. Roy barely remembers the order of everything- the feeling of anything except for his heart pounding in his chest by the time he finds himself standing at the altar, waiting for her, the worst possible scenarios playing in his mind. What if someone crashes the wedding and tries to hurt him- or worse, hurt Riza ? What if one of their friends objects because they know he’s not good enough for her? Hell, what if Riza realizes she’s too good for Roy and leaves him standing there?

 

It’s all illogical. He knows that. They’ve been together for a decade, followed each other in and out of hell, time and time again. He loves her. She loves him. They’ve also hired a ridiculous amount of security, and their friends know better than to object lest they get shot or scorched like game meat. Nothing is going to happen.

 

And yet… Roy’s mind won’t stop racing. He looks at his watch- once, then twice. 

 

Any second now. 

 

Music starts to play. Roy unconsciously holds his breath, equal parts excited and terrified. 

 

Riza comes out from the back of the venue, heel-clad feet lightly clicking against the carpet rolled out over the aisle. The dress that they picked out at the bridal shop still fits her perfectly, the long sleeves highlighting the toned shape of her arms and the floral lace bringing out the soft shape of her body while still concealing her baby bump. Her makeup is perfect and subtle,, the only difference being highlighter on her cheekbones and mascara on her lashes paired with a rosy lip gloss. One of her arms is linked with one of Grumman’s as he walks her down, both of them smiling radiantly. 

 

Riza’s honey-hued eyes lock with Roy’s, and as soon as they do, her smile grows. She’s looking at him like he’s the only other person in the room. 

 

Roy’s heart skips a beat. 

 

The anxieties, the worries, the stress- it all seems to go away in an instant when she looks at him like that . 

 

It’s no surprise that, when Grumman gives her away and disappears into the rest of the wedding party, Roy drags Riza into his arms and presses a kiss against her lips before the officiator can even start his speech.

 

And everyone cheers. 

 

~

 

They’re on each other as soon as they get everything inside and shut the door behind them. Riza’s ceremony dress and the massive stack of wedding gifts are left abandoned in the entryway as Roy backs her up against the wall, their lips molded together and their hands grasping at each other’s bodies like they’ll fall apart if they dare to let go. Roy barely has the mind to reach for the lock to twist it, cock hard and straining against the confines of his suit. 

 

It’s odd, the fact that they’ve had sex so many times- countless times, for years on end- yet lately, and especially tonight, he wants her more than he’s ever wanted her before. It’s evident in how he can’t bring himself to break their kiss, just grinding against Riza’s dress-clad thigh as they stand in the doorway. He works through the motions in his head- maybe he could unzip her dress like this, push the skirt up, hike her leg up and around his waist, take her against the door, and-

 

His train of thought is interrupted by Riza, who’s just as desperate but a lot more sensible, tilting her head back to gasp for air. Roy doesn’t relent, though, just kissing her exposed neck and jaw. She smells like unfamiliar makeup products and hair spray and mocktails, and all he wants is to get her in their room so he can make love to her until she reeks of nothing but him . 

 

“Just can’t help yourself, can you?” Riza chuckles, but at the same time, she’s threading her hands through the back of his raven locks to bring him closer- because she can’t help herself either. 

 

“Sorry, you just look so sexy in this dress,” Roy praises between kisses, mostly because it’s true.

 

Rebecca helped Riza change between the ceremony and the reception, the ceremony dress a little too big and long for her to comfortably move around in with heels on. The reception dress that she’s in now is still reasonably modest, a calf-length silk piece with short sleeves, but it fits her curves in a way that had Roy rearing to get her alone from the first dance they shared with her in it. 

 

The fabric is tight around her perfect heart-shaped pillow of an ass and cut to fit right below the swell of her breasts, which are bigger than ever from the pregnancy, practically spilling out from the strapless bra she’s wearing underneath. The dress is, regrettably, a little loose around her stomach with intentional creases added to keep her gradually growing baby bump out of view, but Roy supposes it’s a necessary sacrifice. 

 

“You really think I look sexy?” Riza laughs, only for the wind to leave her lungs when Roy places one arm under her back and the other under her knees to sweep her off her feet bridal style. 

 

“I do,” Roy answers with a smirk, and she’s wrapping her arms around his neck to secure herself as he takes her to the bedroom. 

 

When they get there, he kicks the cracked door open with an awkward movement of his foot, nearly tumbling with Riza in his arms from his excitement. He does manage to keep them upright, through sheer force of will, and carries her to the bed where he gently sets her on the mattress. She reaches over to flick the switch on the nightstand lamp, which bathes the room in a warm glow. 

 

“Would you mind helping me out of this?” Riza asks, kicking her white heels to the floor as Roy pulls off his dress shoes. 

 

As soon as he’s done with his shoes and socks, Roy looks up to see that Riza is sitting with her back facing him, on her knees. The zipper of the dress is long and high, starting at the base of the neck and going down to her waistline. 

 

“Would I mind?” Roy retorts, crawling onto the bed behind her and sitting up on his knees as well, one hand holding the neck of the dress in place and the other grasping the zipper. He leans in, nipping the lobe of her ear from behind before answering. “It’d be my pleasure.”

 

“If that’s the case- hurry up. I’ve been waiting for this since I saw you standing at the altar in that suit.”

 

Roy swallows, heart skipping a beat at his wife’s words. Then, he’s doing what she says. 

 

Roy doesn’t bother with teasing, not when they both want each other this badly. Instead, he jerks the zipper down in one motion, slow enough to avoid scraping her back or getting it stuck but quick enough to avoid wasting time. Riza shivers against him, leaning into his touch, and he uses his position to unhook the white strapless bra as well. 

 

Riza turns back around, kissing him on the lips before pulling both the bra and the dress down her body. The garments are nice- nice enough that they should probably be treated with care, but they’re too caught up in their excitement to bother, with Riza throwing the dress and the bra to the ground and Roy fumbling to get his own clothes off. Riza lies on her back in front of him, propped up on her elbows, watching with adoration etched into her features and the unnecessarily complicated updo that her hair is in starting to fall out of place. 

 

“Look at you. My sexy, beautiful wife,” Roy starts, and though Riza’s cheeks flush pink at his words- though her eyes refuse to meet his- she smiles at the praise as he yanks off his tie, suit piece, and undershirt in a flurry of rushed movements. Next are his pants and boxers, which he doesn’t bother taking all the way off, just shoving them far enough down his thighs to free his cock before falling forward in between Riza’s legs. Riza lies flat on her back now, hands returning to their rightful place in his hair. He grinds his length against her panty-clad center until he’s so hard that it hurts, placing his forearms on either side of her head and staring down at her with a dopey grin. “My wife. I love being able to say that now- my wife .”

 

“Not being married didn’t stop you from saying it before,” Riza lightly scolds, as she reaches between her legs with both hands- one, carefully pushing her panties to the side and spreading her own folds apart- the other, grasping at his length. It takes everything in Roy not to cum right then and there at the feeling of her calloused palm on him, guiding the tip to her entrance. “In fact, I seem to recall that you were calling me ‘your wife’ as soon as we got engaged.”

 

“You never hesitated to correct me. Now, you can’t do that anymore because as of this morning, you are my wife,” Roy sighs, a shudder tearing through him as his eyes flutter shut. They really should do more foreplay than this, but it seems neither of them can help it- the heated kisses on the drive home will just have to suffice, and she’s honestly wet enough that he isn’t too worried about needing to stretch her. “And better yet, I’m your husband.”

 

“My husband,” The words aren’t quite steady, but they aren’t quite a moan either as Roy slowly sinks into her with a sharp exhale. They both tense, one of Riza’s hands staying between her legs so she can tease her clit with her fingers, the other flying back in his hair. The gel has long since been ruined, leaving it a greasy mess that’s sticking up in about a million places. Both of them are too preoccupied to give a shit about that, though. “I do like the sound of that.”

 

“I’d like the sound of your moans even more,” Roy smirks.

 

Then, he’s pressing his lips back against hers, gently rocking his hips. Her walls are tight around him, soft and hot and wet where he stretches them with his thick cock. She fits him like a glove, fluttering and squeezing around him with every thrust. The noises she makes against his mouth are low, laced with satisfaction, with relief. He greedily swallows up each and every one as he moves his lips against hers, drinking Riza in entirely.

 

She’s his.

 

She’s his .

 

She’s his wife .

 

And she’s here, choosing to spend the rest of her life with him, choosing to grow their child. She’s here, married to him, living in his house and sleeping next to him in his bed every night. She’s here, by his side after all these years- underneath him now, kissing him like he’s the very air she needs to survive and taking his cock like she’s built for it as she pulls his hair and rubs needy circles into her clit. 

 

Roy thinks he might be in heaven. He doesn’t deserve this, but he’s certainly going to enjoy it while he still can. 

 

He fucks into her harder, deeper, and she sharply inhales through her nose in response, but doesn’t break their kiss. No, she keeps kissing him, a silent expression of love and devotion that contrasts with the filthy moans she lets out against his lips. They’re already flush against one another; his cock buried inside her, her legs wrapped around his waist, his carved abs against her soft belly, his solid chest against the pillowy mounds of her breasts, their lips practically molded into one. Still, he’s desperate to be closer, for them to be one, so he presses his body even closer and slides his tongue between Riza’s lips to take everything she has to offer. 

 

Riza seems just as intent to melt into him if at all possible, because she’s making the sweetest attempts to match his movements by kissing him back and arching her back off the bed to meet every pivot of his hips, even as she shakes in the throes of her own pleasure. Before Roy can stop it, he feels the all too familiar sensation of an impending climax building up. His thrusts become sloppy, his kisses more desperate, and Riza is underneath him in an even worse state as her fingers on her clit shift from steady and rhythmic to wanton and hurried. 

 

She clamps down on him hard when she cums, as if trying to beckon him to tumble over the edge with her, and it fucking works. Roy breaks the kiss to bury his face in her neck when he finishes, utter euphoria coursing through his veins when he buries his cock to the hilt and floods her with his warmth. Riza just clings to him- trembling legs around his waist, an arm around his neck, keeping him on top of her.

 

And it takes everything in him to force himself to get off of his wife- to not just fall asleep like this after the long day they’ve had- because it would be nice. But he doesn’t want her to be uncomfortable. 

 

So, he pulls out, gently lifting himself off of Riza and falling onto the other side of the bed. It’s entirely too hot, so he kicks his pants and boxers the rest of the way off, abandoning them on the floor. Riza does the same with her ruined panties, which Roy is too emotionally and physically exhausted to apologize for.

 

He does manage, in the midst of trying to catch his breath, to dig into the top drawer of the nightstand for a pack of wipes to clean them up with. He hands the pack to Riza and goes to close the drawer, only to see that the drawer is… Sort of a mess. 

 

It’s mostly full of things for sex, of course, but there’s also a couple of old papers and some other things that they don’t really need. As Riza wipes herself down where she’s splayed out next to him, he clears out some of the drawer’s contents, throwing the papers and an old sex toy package into the bedside trash can.

 

Then, he sees their box of condoms, which he raises an eyebrow at. They don’t use them anymore, for obvious reasons- she’s already pregnant and they’re not sleeping with anyone else, so the extra layer of protection would be unnecessary. Sex feels better without it, anyway, but he knows that they’ll have to go back to using them after the baby is born. 

 

“I guess we can throw these out, right?” Roy questions, grabbing the box from the drawer and lying flat on the bed. He holds it in front of him, staring at the box. It was a large pack that they’d had for a while, and the date on the back indicates that they expired a couple months ago, shortly after Riza told him about the pregnancy. “I think they were about to expire, last time we used th-...”

 

Roy trails off, breath catching when he sees one of the many warning labels on the back. He reads it once, then twice, and then a third time.

 

‘Never store product at temperatures warmer than 100 °F (38 °C) or cooler than 32 °F (0 °C)’

 

Fuck. Fuck . Roy sits up in the bed, fingers tightening around the cardboard in his hands as his eyes widen with realization. 

 

Towards the end of last year, they’d done a lot more sneaking around and had taken to keeping condoms in the car. After almost getting caught doing it in his backseat at a public park, Roy had kept them at Riza’s apartment- and then, when they moved in together, at their home. But for a while, they were just sitting in his car, their durability most likely ruined by the cold Amestris winter. 

 

When Riza had confided in him that she was pregnant, he hadn’t cared about the how or the why, just about getting them squared away. After she moved in, he gave it some thought, but condom breaks aren’t impossible and he didn’t think it important to figure out the specifics.

 

Now… Now, he suspects this is his fault. And that is important. Because now, Riza is married to him when she otherwise wouldn’t have been and four months pregnant when they’d barely even talked about kids. He could’ve handled it, thinking that it was an accident they were equally responsible for, or maybe an odd twist of fate, but knowing that it’s his fault for not reading the fucking warnings on the back of the box? Roy would scream if Riza weren’t sitting right next to him. 

 

Riza picks up on the mood shift in an instant, sitting up and scooting closer to rest her head on his shoulder.

 

“What’s wrong?” She whispers.

 

“Riza,” Roy starts, voice shaking more than he expects it to. He can’t even bear to look at her for a moment, screwing his eyes shut. “It’s…”

 

“What? What is it?”

 

“Did you… Know that condoms are supposed to be kept somewhere room temperature at all times?”

 

“No? Why do you-” Riza starts, sounding confused, but then it seems to click for her too. She jerks away from Roy, staring at him with a furrowed brow. He reluctantly meets her eyes as a guilty frown takes over her face. “Oh my God. We left them in the car for all that time…”

 

“It’s… The baby- it’s my fault. I assumed that I bought the wrong size or that we just had an unlucky break- and the entire time, it was my fault,” Roy runs his hands through his hair, but the motion provides no comfort. “I had them in the car for weeks after I bought them, and there was that blizzard in October when we got to sub zero temperatures and-”

 

“Roy, calm down,” And even though Roy doesn’t feel like he deserves it, Riza is reassuring him, placing a hand on his back and gently rubbing up and down. 

 

“Calm down? Riza, this is all my fault, how can you expect me to calm down?” Roy demands, turning to look at her. He expected her to be mad. For some reason, part of him wanted her to be mad. Instead, she’s just staring at him with concern etched into her features. “You’re only here, married to me because I screwed up-”

 

“Okay, it’s clear that you and I need to have a word. First- anything could've happened. The condoms could've broken on their own, they could've been faulty, maybe we bought a bad brand. It doesn't matter because we will never know for sure, so stop doing that thing where your life is going too well so you find something to be upset about. Secondly, I am going to tell you what this marriage really boils down to, so shut up and listen,” Riza firmly interjects, and fuck , she’s grabbing his face in her hands and leaning forward to stare him down. The absolute certainty in her gaze does make him feel better, but the guilt that never seems to leave him alone is still coursing through his veins, heavy and uncomfortable. “I’m here, married to you because I want to be. You proposed and got married to me because you wanted to. Me getting pregnant clearly wasn’t a conscious choice, but again, I’m here because I want to be, just like you are. That is all. I’ll tell you what you told me when you proposed; I’m doing this because I love you. The baby’s just a very lucky bonus.”

 

“But… Would you have married me?” Roy murmurs, placing his hands on top of hers. “If not for the baby?”

 

“This soon after your promotion? No. I wanted to give it a few more months, maybe a couple years,” Riza explains. “But I still would’ve married you at some point, and if you would’ve really pushed for it- made it clear that it was something that was important to you- I would’ve done it as soon as you’d wanted.”

 

Roy’s gaze flickers to Riza’s stomach. It’s definitely different than it was four months ago or even one month ago, moderately round and soft, the life they’ve created slowly but surely starting to take shape. And even though Riza has handled this situation with so much grace, and even though she’s managed to have a pretty level head about this, Roy wonders… If she regrets it. If she regrets him . 

 

“And the baby?” He whispers. 

 

“What?”

 

“Would you have chosen to have a baby with me, Riza? If it hadn’t happened by accident? If you actually had a choice?”

 

“I don’t know- I mean, I think so,” Riza answers, and it’s not the easy ‘yes’ that he wanted, but it’s honest, which provides more comfort in the end. “I… My feelings were complicated, but if you really wanted…”

 

“I see,” He says, swallowing tightly, but the lump of anxiety in his throat doesn’t go down.  “I mean... You know my feelings about it. I'm glad it happened. I was happy when you told me. But I really wanted it to be something you wanted.”

 

“There’s always been a part of me that wanted to be a mother, Roy, it’s not that I didn’t want it. It’s just that I didn’t know if I… Deserved it.”

 

Roy pauses, because he knows what she means. In her mind, they’ve taken too many lives to deserve to create another, but their child is already set to arrive within the next five months- already alive, with a beating heart and a presence that’s been enough to change their world in a matter of weeks. Roy can’t say he doesn’t understand where she’s coming from, but… There’s a selfish part of him that wants to move forward. That wants to stand by her side and enjoy this, because they’ve been working nonstop to make things right- because their baby deserves to feel like they were wanted. 

 

“Of course you deserve it,” Roy says after a little too long, and he finds himself pulling her into his arms, one hand on her back and the other on the crown of her head.

 

“And of course you would say that,” Riza buries her face in the crook of his neck and shoulder, softly smiling against his skin. “I… I know that we both tend to have this idea in our heads that if things don’t happen in exactly the order that we plan for them to happen in, that they’re wrong. I’m especially guilty of that. But I don’t feel that way about this.”

 

“You don’t?” Roy asks, because honestly, he needs all the reassurance he can get right now. 

 

“I don’t. It got us to settle down faster than we would have on our own, which was stressful to think about at first, but I’m glad for it now. The people of Amestris still seem to love you.”

 

“The people of Amestris also don’t know that I knocked you up out of wedlock,” He laughs.

 

“Well, we can cross that line when we get to it, but I want you to know that I’m just as serious as you are about having no regrets. None of this is wrong. I’m happy to be your wife, to carry our child, to spend our lives together making Amestris a better place. As complicated as this all has been, and will continue to be, I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

 

“You really mean that,” Roy sighs with relief, to which Riza nods against him.

 

“I do,” Riza says, but then, she freezes. After a second, she pulls back, gaze flickering between Roy’s face and her baby bump. “Roy?”

 

“Yeah? Is something wrong?”

 

“No, but I think…” Riza trails off, placing a hand on her stomach. “I just felt the baby move.”

 

“Really? I thought that was supposed to happen later,” Roy mutters. It’s not entirely out of the question, but he remembers Riza’s doctor saying at her four month appointment that pregnant women usually don’t feel their baby’s movements until closer to the five month mark- that it can happen earlier, but that it’s not as common. “They must know we’re talking about them.”

 

A beat of silence, and then Roy assumes that it’s happening again, because Riza is raising her eyebrows with what looks like surprise. 

 

“It’s so weird,” She chuckles, and Roy can’t help but ask-

 

“What does it feel like?”

 

“I don’t know how to describe it… Sort of like a vibration? Or a rumble?”

 

“Can I feel?”

 

“You probably won’t be able to feel the movements from the outside this early on since they’re so faint, but you can try,” Riza gives him permission, scooting closer, and he gently places her hands on her stomach. 

 

The skin is warm and soft and just slightly taut, the sensation calming as Riza lets out slow, steady breaths. 

 

“Hey, there. It’s your dad. I don’t know if you can actually hear me,” Roy addresses the baby, and part of him feels a little silly for it. He remembers, when Gracia was pregnant, Maes would talk to Elicia as if she was there, and Roy thought it was ridiculous. But now that he’s here, with Riza- with their baby- it’s all clicking into place. He just wishes Maes were still alive to hear about it, but he’s able to swallow the thought down for now, instead focusing his attention on Riza and their unborn child. “And I know we haven’t met yet, but… I love you already. So much.”

 

“They just moved again, when you said that,” Riza grins. “Did you feel it?”

 

“No, but that’s okay.”

 

Roy retracts his hands so he can reach forward to help Riza with her hair. The updo is mostly out of place now, but it looks uncomfortable, so he works to remove the seemingly endless number of bobby pins that had kept it in place. The entire time, he keeps his gaze trained on Riza; the flush in her cheeks, the happy glint in her honey-hued eyes, the content smile on her lips. 

 

“You’re staring at me,” Riza points out, holding his gaze. 

 

“I’m just happy, and very much in love with my beautiful wife,” Roy turns to set the pins down on the nightstand before turning back to Riza and grabbing her hands, holding them in his. “Is there a problem with that, Mrs. Mustang?”

 

Riza blinks, as if she’s thrown off by the title, but then it clicks. 

 

“Of course not,” Riza whispers. “Let’s go to bed. We’re going to have a long day with the press tomorrow, now that we’re married.”

 

“You’re right,” Roy sighs and reaches over to turn the lamp off, lying down and pulling the covers over the two of them. 

 

Riza cuddles up to him in an instant, snuggling against his chest, and he wraps his arms around her in return. 

 

“...You know I love you, right?” Riza questions, the words whispered into the darkness, and Roy just smiles.

 

“Yeah,” He whispers back, holding her tighter. “I know. I love you, too.”

 

“Goodnight, my handsome husband.”

 

At that, Roy laughs, pressing a kiss into the top of Riza’s hair.

“Goodnight, my beautiful wife.”

Chapter 15

While the wedding itself is bliss, Riza finds that her and Roy’s union becoming official does nothing to ease the anxiety that gnaws at her in the following weeks.

 

She’s standing by where Roy is sitting at the head of the conference room table, her arms crossed and her coat- no, Roy’s coat- draped heavily around her shoulders. It’s a long, thick, black garment that swallows her frame and hides the curve of her stomach that has become too difficult to disguise in uniform alone. She’s over five months pregnant now, and though for the first four months she could argue that she just looked a little bloated- or that she maybe packed on some stress weight- now, she most definitely looks pregnant. 

 

Hiding the baby has become a spectacle. She wears a uniform that’s a size too large, shows up early enough that no one will see her come in and leaves late enough that no one will see her on her way out. Roy’s coat has become her one saving grace, protecting her from the journalists that have been following them nonstop since the wedding with flashing cameras. By some miracle, they haven’t figured out the truth, but there’s been plenty of talk about them having a private wedding and even more talk about her- apparently- obvious weight gain. It feels less than nice, though it’s been happening so often lately that the sting has become a familiar one. 

 

The room is filled with noise; shuffling papers, raised voices, the occasional scrape of a chair. Riza is vaguely reminded of when Roy passed the bill to abolish the fraternization laws, because all in all, this isn’t too different from that day; he’s being stubborn about what he wants and the team is arguing it in an attempt to preserve his reputation. It’s a sight that’s starting to become all too familiar, though Riza feels less guilty about it this time considering that the newest orders are exclusively to benefit Ishval and its people- not Roy and Riza themselves.

 

Roy is sitting back in his chair, pen held in his hand, posture unrelenting even as Falman, Breda, and Havoc argue with him. Poor Fuery is sitting on the floor with his dog, Eloise, and Black Hayate, petting both of their heads as he anxiously looks between everyone in the room. 

 

“Sir,” Falman starts, nervously shifting in his chair and flinching each time Havoc- who is jittery from having given up smoking lately- passes him in the midst of his pacing back and forth in the room. “You do understand what kind of message this will send, don’t you? The reparations last month were fair, but requiring community service from war veterans to help rebuild Ishval?”

 

“They destroyed the country, and now they’re going to help rebuild it. It makes perfect sense to me,” Roy says, irritation etched into every one of his features. “We won’t be exempt, either, and they have three years to volunteer for their required twelve hours. If anything, I’m being lenient. They- we - should all be in jail or dead for what we’ve done. If they throw a bitch fit because I’m requiring them to go work in a soup kitchen or build some houses or spend some time with Ishvalan seniors at the nursing homes, they can kick rocks.”

 

Riza winces. Roy is right. She knows that he’s right. It’s something they’ve talked about for years. Grumman did his best during his short term to mend relations with Ishval and help them rebuild, but there’s so much to be done that the brunt of it has fallen on Roy’s shoulders. This is everything they’ve worked for. But Riza would be a fool to think that this would come with no consequence. Roy has already implemented a variety of changes that, while appreciated by the majority of the population, have had some strong reactions from his critics. This will only make the tensions worse. 

 

“It’s not that we disagree with you, but this is going to stir a lot of resentment,” Breda argues. “Most of the soldiers who served in Ishval don’t think they did anything wrong because they don’t know that they were just pawns to gathering enough souls for the creation of philosopher’s stones- from their perspective, they’re going to get punished for serving their country-”

 

“They destroyed a country and all of the people-!” Roy all but explodes, standing from his seat and slamming a clenched fist down on the desk. Eloise and Black Hayate jump up, with Eloise retreating to Fuery’s lap and Black Hayate rushing to lie atop Riza’s boot-clad feet. Upon seeing how startled they are, Roy sits back down, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer finger. “Sorry- sorry, it’s just… I don’t think it’s fair that we and all of the people who fought with us should get to destroy an entire civilization and not face any consequences.”

 

“Still, they only did that shit because they didn’t know any better, because they were being manipulated by a Fuhrer with shitty intentions who told them that it was necessary to protect the country,” Havoc cuts in. “C’mon, man, I know there’s no excuse for what happened, but… It’s not going to go over well. People aren’t gonna be happy about this- and not only the community service, but requiring up to date sensitivity training and replacing the war commemoration date with Ishvalan Independence Day? They’re already pissed about the fraternization law thing, and don’t even get me started on your wedding being private. I saw a tabloid today about how insulted everyone was, people saying that you and Hawkeye feel like you’re too good to interact with the public and shit. Dude, if you’re not careful, your popularity is going to tank and people are going to start coming after you-”

 

“I know,” Roy sighs, picking up his pen again and holding it over the paper. “But I have to do this. It’ll be the last thing I do before letting things settle for a bit. Once these are signed, I’ll focus on rebuilding my popularity some; interacting with the public, getting my approval ratings up.”

 

No one says anything for a few seconds. Riza watches them all, taking in the tension, the fear, the worry. They may disagree with him, but if this is what Roy wants- if this is what Roy thinks is right- in the end, they’ll support him, just like Riza does. 

 

Roy’s gaze flickers to her, charcoal eyes full with uncertainty. It’s a question. Am I staying on the right path? 

 

Riza nods. Yes. And I’ll keep you on it. 

 

Then, he starts signing the papers. 

 

The room slowly empties afterwards, with Havoc grumbling something about needing a cigarette, Fuery taking both dogs for a walk outside of headquarters, Falman offering to take the papers that Roy has signed to be made official, and Breda retreating to the cafeteria- probably to find something to stress eat.

 

Roy and Riza are left alone. Riza stays standing by where Roy is sat in his chair, curled up beneath his undercoat, staring at the floor. The weight of it is grounding and comforting, but her anxiety doesn’t leave.

 

Outside these walls, people are talking. They’re angry that the wedding wasn’t public. They’re angry that she didn’t walk down the city steps in white silk to a cheering crowd. They’re angry that Roy seems to sign law after law into place without caring what anyone thinks. They’re angry that he’s advocating for Ishval more than he’s advocating for his own country. They’re angry. Even some of their own staff are becoming angry. She hears the rumors, reads the tabloids, sees the glares when she dares to leave the office.

 

And now that her pregnancy is becoming harder to hide, she’s staying at home or in Roy’s office more and more.

 

It’s not sustainable. Riza knows this. Her body aches in new places every day; her knees, from the strain of carrying her place to place, her hips, from the way they’re gradually widening, her stomach, from the stretch marks and the round ligament pain, her breasts, from the growth and tenderness, her shoulders, from the crushing weight she’s been carrying. She gets tired faster, nauseous when she pushes herself too hard or goes too long without eating, uncharacteristically emotional at the slightest inconveniences.

 

She’s going to have to quit soon. Were it Rebecca or Gracia or anyone else, she’d have advised them to stay at home as soon as they found out; to be surrounded by nothing but their own home and their loved ones. But she’s not anyone else, she’s Riza Hawkeye, and she’s determined to hold out for as long as she possibly can because she has a mission; protect Roy, and keep him on the right path.

 

She can’t do that from home.

 

As if able to read her thoughts, Roy stands up and pushes his chair behind him so he can stand in front of her. He sets a warm, reassuring hand on Riza’s shoulder and offers her a small smile.

 

“You alright?”

 

Riza meets his eyes. The answer is ‘no’. They both know that. So, she doesn’t bother lying, instead responding with-

 

“I’m proud of you.”

 

His gaze softens, and he wraps his arms around her tight, pulling her into his strong frame. Riza lets out a shaky sigh, allowing the affection and resting her head against his shoulder.

 

“You don’t have to keep doing this,” Roy murmurs, running a hand over her back and kissing the top of her head.

 

“I know,” She says. “But I don’t want to be a distraction to you.”

 

“You’re not a distraction, Riza… You’re the only reason I’m here.”

 

Riza doesn’t question what he means, because they both already know. He wouldn’t be alive if she weren’t here. He would’ve gone down the wrong path if she weren’t here. He never would’ve made it to Fuhrer if she weren’t here- just like, if it weren’t for Roy, Riza would’ve been dead long ago. 

 

“I don’t want to leave you,” Riza whispers, pressing a kiss into the side of his neck. “I’m worried that when I do finally go on maternity leave, something bad will happen.”

 

“Nothing is going to happen to me,” Roy pulls back and places his hands on either side of Riza’s face, staring into her eyes. 

 

“Just… Promise me you won’t die or something.”

 

“Okay,” Roy nods, smiling. “I won’t die… or something.”

 

~

 

Riza finds that she can’t sleep that night.

 

Then again, she can’t sleep most nights, anyway. She’s lying awake in bed, eyes wide open in the low lighting of the room. She’s been terrified of the dark since her multi-month-long stint with Pride and Wrath, so it’s not an infrequent occurrence for her to lie in bed with the lamp on. The house is quiet save for the soft ticking of the alarm clock on the nightstand and the sound of Black Hayate’s snores from where he lies at the foot of the bed. 

 

Roy lies beside her on his stomach, one arm draped over her body and his cheek squished against the pillow, his breathing deep and even- until it isn’t. 

 

It starts with a twitch. Then a shift, onto his side, facing her but moving away. Then a furrow of his brow, and the gathering of sweat, and finally, a strangled sound in the back of his throat. 

 

Riza never knows whether to wake him up or to let him live the nightmare all the way through. She thinks about waking him up, but before she can, Roy’s eyes snap open. 

 

“Riza,” He gasps, charcoal gaze frantically flickering around until it lands on her frame. She turns to face him, honey-hued eyes full of concern. Roy all but launches himself into her arms, burying his face in her naked chest and holding her like she might slip through his fingers if he dares to let go. Riza notices that he’s burning hot, and even worse, he’s trembling. He won’t look at her, just holding her tight and keeping his face against her collar. “Riza…”

 

“It’s alright, Roy. You’re safe- you’re home,” Riza whispers, reaching up with one hand to run it through Roy’s hair. Roy leans into the touch, breathing jagged. “What do you need from me?”

 

He doesn’t respond right away. Just breathes. Still jagged; hard, slow, shaky, almost like he’s having to learn how to do it for the first time. Finally, he pulls away, sitting up and allowing the sheets to fall into a silk puddle in his lap as he stares over at her. He looks more aware now, less startled, but Riza can see the exhaustion in his face. The weight of it all. 

 

The baby kicks, and Riza frowns. It was cute at first. It’s still cute. More importantly than that, it’s a reminder that their child is alive and well within the confines of her body, developing as they should be. But, the sensation is uncomfortable, bordering on painful, and contributes to keeping her awake these days even more than the nightmares- something that pregnancy has also somehow amplified. 

 

“Riza… Did I wake you up?” Roy asks, ignoring her question entirely.

 

Of course he’s more worried about her than he is about himself even though he’s teetering the edge between a bad nightmare and an even worse panic attack. 

 

“No, I was already awake. I couldn’t sleep. I was… Thinking.”

 

“About what?”

 

“Don’t ask that,” Riza scolds and sits up as well so she can place a hand on his thigh in an attempt to ground him. “I’m more worried about you. Do you want to talk about it?”

 

“I saw them,” Roy whispers, his voice cracking at the edges with every word he says. “Again. The flames, the ash. Their eyes. I can’t see the color red without thinking about those eyes. They wouldn’t stop screaming, and I just… Kept snapping my fingers. Kept burning them, like I couldn’t stop, like I didn’t want to stop.”

 

“It was just a dream, Roy.”

 

“No,” He shakes his head, and then bows it, staring into his own lap. “It was real. It all happened.”

 

“It makes sense that Ishval is on our minds right now,” Riza sighs, and it’s true- with the pregnancy, Roy’s promotion, and all of the legislation they’ve been working on, it was bound to manifest in his dreams more than it already does. 

 

“It’s hard not to. I think all that legislature we worked on today… Well, it’s on my mind even more than usual now. Especially since we’re…”

 

Roy trails off. Riza doesn’t ask him to clarify, because the feeling has been festering since she found out she was pregnant all that time ago. They don’t deserve to move on from what they’ve done, and the fact that they’re married and having a child after everything they’ve done feels like spitting on the graves of the families they’ve destroyed. 

 

“Do you… Feel guilty that we’re moving on?” Riza questions. 

 

“Yeah,” Roy nods, and he reaches for the hand that’s on his leg, holding it within his own. Riza isn’t sure when his hands got so large. When they were kids, their hands were the same size. When they were in Ishval, his hands were only slightly larger than hers. Now, his practically dwarf hers, his palm covering most of her hand and his longer, thicker fingers hiding her’s from sight. “But I don’t want you to feel that way.”

 

“I’ve felt that way since we found out. It’s hard to find time to think about it during the day, which is a good thing, but then night falls and we’re alone… And you always fall asleep before me, so I have the time,” Riza explains, resting her head on his shoulder. “And it scares me, because I’m afraid that the stress is going to hurt the baby, but I don’t even feel like we deserve to have a child after-”

 

“I know,” Roy interjects. “You don’t have to tell me. I understand.”

 

A pause, and then-

 

“What are we going to do?”

 

“We’ll do what we have to,” Roy shrugs. He reaches forward with his spare hand, placing it on Riza’s stomach. He lovingly strokes his thumb over the baby bump in the same way that he would stroke the digit over the back of her hand were he holding it. The gesture is familiar and warm, and despite the circumstances, makes Riza’s heart flutter. “What we did back then… Our baby shouldn’t have to carry the weight of our sins. This isn’t their fault. We’re trying to make it right, so… We just have to move on the best we can and focus on raising them to be better than we were.”

 

He’s right.

 

Riza knows that.

 

Yet, she can’t push the guilt away, can’t just forget about what they’ve done. How is it fair that they’ve taken so many mothers and fathers away from their babies- that they’ve taken so many babies away from their parents- yet they’re here, daring to be alive and happy, having a baby of their own? It’s not fair. None of it is fair, and as she stares into Roy’s eyes, she realizes that she doesn’t even have to say it aloud.

 

Because he feels the same way.

 

But still, he’s right. It’s too late to go back. Their child isn’t at fault for what they’ve done.

 

And they have no choice but to make this work.

Chapter 16

A couple of weeks pass and Roy Mustang finds that he’s drowning in everything. 

 

Just as his team predicted, the new laws he’s passed have been met with broad national support alongside an unsettling undercurrent of outrage from more radical factions. His team has been working tirelessly to contain the fallout; passing supplementary legislation to dilute the attention from his more controversial moves as of late, crafting carefully worded statements for the press to pass around in hopes of easing some of the building resentment, and shouldering general administrative work so that Roy can focus on other things. 

 

And of course, Roy is grateful for them- for Riza- but gratitude isn’t keeping his head above water, and he’s still very much drowning in everything despite their best efforts. 

 

Work aside, Riza is due to give birth in a little less than four months- maybe even sooner than that, since due dates aren’t exact. He’s terrified that someone will find out about the pregnancy, but then again, it’s not like they’re going to be able to hide the fact that he got her pregnant out of wedlock and then abolished fraternization laws and married her to cover it up- yet another thing he has to be worried about. Eventually, people will connect the dots, and they’ll have to cross that bridge when they get to it. 

 

Better yet, they haven’t actually had the time, between work and doctor’s appointments, to get anything ready for the baby. Aside from reading parenting books here and there, Roy isn’t prepared at all, and he knows that Riza isn’t either. 

 

And the worst part is that, no matter how much Roy hints that she should go on leave, Riza refuses. As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, her body is changing, her uniform increasingly snug with each week that passes to the point that she’s been hiding in one of his overcoats for the last month. She tries to hide it, tries to hide herself, but Roy sees it all. He always has when it comes to her. 

 

But he can’t think about it, because he has to keep his head above water even though he can barely even swim in the state he’s been in for the last couple months. He has to be steady like a rock; for his country, for Riza. 

 

He’s alone in his office for the first time in what feels like forever. Breda is on the way back from teaching an Ishvalan linguistics course in South City. Falman is up north teaching the same course to the soldiers at Briggs. Havoc is with Catalina on a minor field mission, and Fuery is running a secure phone line for them. Finally, there’s Riza, who has been restricted to central command for the last five months. She’s merely in the bathroom and will be back any minute, but Roy takes the reprieve alone regardless. He allows himself to be weak; rests his head on his desk, sighs, runs a hand through his hair, allows himself to look like the tired, stressed out man that he is instead of the energetic, solid rock of a man that Amestris expects him to be. 

 

Then, the door slams open. Roy jolts up, grumbling a complaint. Neither him nor Riza have been getting good sleep recently, so he’s exhausted, but he can’t bring himself to tear into Breda for waking him from his almost-sleep when the man storms into the room clutching a thick folder of papers. Without ceremony, he slams the door shut behind him, approaches Roy’s desk, and slaps the folder down right in front of him. 

 

“So,” Breda starts. “Looks like you’ve gotten yourself in some deep shit, Mustang.”

 

“Do tell,” Roy leans back in his chair, feigning disinterest even as his heart starts to pound against his ribcage.

 

It feels like he’s been getting himself into ‘deep shit’ for years, but right now, the last thing he needs is more of that. 

 

“There’s a resistance group forming in South City,” Breda sighs, gesturing towards the papers on Roy’s desktop as he crosses his arms over his chest and allows his eyes to fall shut. His brow is glistening with sweat and though he tries to keep his tone conversational, the slight shake in his words gives his nerves away. “They don’t like your reforms.”

 

“Really?” Roy chuckles, letting out a small exhale through his nose. Of course. Of course it’s South City, and of course it’s happening right now. Southern Amestris has always been a little volatile, brimming with hardline veterans of the Ishvalan War who’d barely even tolerated Grumman. Roy’s own changes- much more aggressive and rapid than the ones that took place during Grumman’s short reign- weren’t going to land quietly in the south no matter what he did. “Are we talking about an organized group with a name or just a handful of stragglers?”

 

“They don’t have a name yet, but they’re organized, and more importantly, they’re angry. And they’re recruiting young soldiers that don’t understand the reality of the situation- young soldiers who weren’t even there,” Breda rambles, nerves shining through as he fishes into the pocket of his uniform pants for a bag of trail mix to anxiously munch on. Normally, Roy would scold him for it, but right now… He can’t. Not when he’s anxious, too. “They hate all the reforms, especially the Ishvalan linguistics course.”

 

“Well, they can be pissed off all they want,” Roy grumbles. It really is the last thing he needs right now, but again, he expected it- knew it was a possibility when he took over and started his work. Grumman’s reign was to rebuild Ishval- Roy’s will be to ensure it stays built long after they’re gone. He’s not going to let that go. “I don’t care. I can handle it.”

 

“You aren’t worried?” Breda questions with a furrowed brow. 

 

“Of course not. We’ve survived through much worse, and for this long,” Roy offers a dismissive wave and a shrug. He is, in fact, worried, but… His team doesn’t need to know that. “I can handle whatever they have to throw at me.”

 

“I think there may be more people involved than what I was able to get on the report. I was trying to write them down as I could but I was under pretty constant surveillance from them so it was difficult. I don’t exactly have Falman’s memory,” Breda complains. “As you know, I was down there to run the course and everyone there was furious that they even had to do it. Something didn’t seem right… I played along like I was being forced to do it against my will and they invited me into their little group in a few hours flat.”

 

“Are you serious?” Roy complains, because he would almost understand if the resentment had built from some of his more heavy-handed implementations, but… A linguistics course? “They’re upset because I added a damn language course to their mandated curriculum?”

 

“You know that’s not all it is. They’re upset about everything you’ve passed since you’ve been in power… All of it has compounded into this mess. The language course was just the last straw.”

 

“All of those things had to be done,” Roy says, though he’s not sure if he’s trying to convince Breda or himself that he’s in the right. 

 

“Yeah, but this is exactly why we tried to push you to do this gradually instead of dropping dozens of new laws as soon as you got your promotion,” Breda argues.

 

“No. This isn’t because of my haste. They would’ve reacted like this no matter how long I took.”

 

“We have no way of knowing that, I-” Breda cuts himself off and takes a deep breath, letting out a heavy sigh before continuing. “Look, I’m going back down there for a conference in a month. They told me they have some sort of coup d'etat in the works, that they’re going to fill me in and want me to spearhead it since I’m in your ranks. I convinced them to let me bring Falman, so I’ll need him to be available to me so he can record everything. If I’m not being played, I should be able to get you enough information to stop it before it starts.”

 

“Alright. You have my permission to bring Falman with you and handle this however you see fit. Get everything; I want names, dates, plans… And we’ll intercept it before it can take root,” Roy offers a small smile. The circumstances aren’t great, but at least he has a competent team that can nip things like this in the bud. “I’m lucky to have you watching my back, Breda.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Breda smiles something fond, but then he’s pivoting to- “But speaking of people watching your back, what are you going to tell Hawkeye?”

 

“...I’m not going to tell her anything,” Roy responds after a little too long. “And neither are you. That’s an order.”

 

Were it not for the circumstances, he’d have told her in a heartbeat, but right now… The last thing Riza needs is to have something else to worry about. Roy fears that if he told her, she’d insist on going to South City along with Breda and Falman and put herself in danger- or worse, stay in central but turn into a worried mess.

 

“What?” Breda demands, eyes wide. “You can’t do that to her!”

 

“I have to. Her doctor said that stress is bad for the baby’s health and she’s stressed enough as it is.”

 

“But she needs to be informed. If there’s an assassination attempt or-”

 

“Look. It doesn’t sound like they’re going to act until after that conference, right?”

 

“Right,” Breda slowly nods. 

 

“Bring me the information when you return and I’ll tell her then,” Roy promises, though really, it’s an out. He has no intention of telling Riza anything. “She’ll be almost six months along at that point, anyway- she may not even be working anymore.”

 

“You better hope so,” Breda grumbles, turning for the door. “But I feel like I should say this…”

 

“What is it?”

 

“If she can’t handle the stress of being here- if it could hurt the baby, and if it’s going to make you do dumb bullshit,” Breda hisses the words, scolding Roy almost like a parent would their child. “She needs to quit.”

 

“I know that, but-”

 

“No. It’s not just the two of you that you have to worry about, there’s a child at stake now. Could you imagine what would happen if someone burst through the door ready to take your life right now and she and the baby got hurt because she tried to protect you?”

 

The mere thought makes Roy nauseous, so he pushes it to the side, wringing his hands together and staring down into his own lap. 

 

“That won’t happen.”

 

“You can’t say that for sure,” Breda raises his voice now, frustratedly pulling at his rust-hued hair. “And we’ve all worked too damn hard to-”

 

The door opens, revealing Riza. She walks into the room, and almost as if she’s able to sense that there is something serious happening, she looks between Breda and Roy with skeptical honey-hued eyes. 

 

“Sir?” Riza questions. There’s a cup in each hand- a hot chocolate for her and a coffee for Roy. She must’ve stopped by the staff lounge. “Is… Something wrong?”

 

“Nothing at all,” Roy cuts in before Breda can answer with a smile that he knows is not at all convincing. “Breda here was just telling me about how the Ishvalan linguistics course went.”

 

“Oh?” Riza raises an eyebrow, still looking between Roy and Breda, trying to put the pieces together. Roy glares in Breda’s direction, silently reminding him to keep quiet. “Anything interesting?” 

 

“Actually-“ Breda starts, but Roy quickly interrupts him again.

 

“Don’t waste her time giving me the same boring report you gave me,” Roy laughs, grabbing said ‘boring report’ and shoving it into the very bottom of his desk drawer in hopes that no one will find it there. “You’re dismissed, Breda.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Breda grumbles, and then, he’s gone.

 

The moment that the door shuts behind Breda, Riza approaches Roy’s desk, sets his coffee down in front of him, and shoots him a pointed glare as she sips from her hot chocolate. Slowly but surely, she downs the cup. Roy thinks that he might actually escape talking about it, but then she sets the empty mug down on the desk and stares right at him. 

 

“What was that?” She demands.

 

Fuck.

 

“What was what?” Roy tries to play dumb, but of course, it doesn’t work- it never does with Riza.

 

“You’re lying to me,” Riza says, almost incredulous, like she can’t believe it. 

 

“It’s not important,” Roy mutters, averting his gaze.

 

It is important. But it’s also important that Riza doesn’t find out about this and spiral over it. 

 

“If it pertains to our work, it’s important to me-“

 

“Riza,” Roy’s gaze flickers up to meet hers where she’s standing in front of him, and he can see her expression soften the moment he gives her the most comforting smile he can muster. “Do you trust me?”

 

“Always,” She nods. 

 

“Then let it be. You should be worrying about yourself more. Have you thought about when you’re going to put in your leave yet?”

 

Riza looks away, a pained expression taking over her face. They both know that she’s going to have to take time off soon, whether she wants to or not, and Roy can tell that it’s absolutely destroying her. At the same time, though, with each day that she continues to push herself to continue watching his back, the riskier this seems to get. 

 

“No,” Riza whispers. 

 

“Do you want-“

 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Riza frowns before circling the desk, standing behind him, and draping her arms over his shoulders. Then, she leans down, pressing a kiss to the back of Roy’s head and nuzzling into his hair. “You trust me, too, don’t you?”

 

He does. He always has. He always will. 

 

And just as Roy always has, he melts into Riza in an instant. 

 

“Of course.”

 

~

 

They go home late that night, something that they’ve had to resort to in order to prevent Riza getting caught at the wrong angle by any journalists or paparazzi. By the time they get through the door’s of the Fuhrer’s mansion, it’s almost nine and they’re both brimming with anxiety and regret.

 

Anxiety from… Well, everything.

 

While Roy had been grateful for the privacy at first, he now regrets letting Grumman take the mansion’s original staff with him to his countryside home when he retired. God, the things he’d give for someone to just handle dinner and laundry while he takes care of Black Hayate and Riza… 

 

But there’s no help- just Riza, who tries to help- not that Roy will let her. She’s pregnant and working. When she’s home, she should be resting. So, Roy starts soup on the crockpot. They’re both tired of eating it, but it’s healthy, and it’s easy to make. Then, he washes the seemingly never ending pile of dishes in the sink. Walks Black Hayate through the property under the watchful gaze of the military security that surrounds the mansion. Folds the laundry. All of it is so boring that it should calm him, but it doesn’t. 

 

It’s past ten by the time that he finishes everything and realizes that he still needs to shave. After work tomorrow, he has an interview at the local radio station. They’re going to be asking questions about his life as a newlywed, about his recent policies, and about his plans for the immediate future. It’s not only important for him to answer the questions just right, but important for him to look just right, which means that he really needs to shave. He’s been looking a mess recently with an overgrown stubble and it’s becoming uncomfortable, so he goes to the bathroom to find that the door is shut and locked. Riza retreated for a shower the moment they got home and has yet to resurface, which makes him groan, slightly annoyed as he knocks on the wood frame. 

 

“Riza, let me in,” He calls out, forcing himself to ignore the exhaustion racking his body. It at least sounds like the shower is off, so he figures she’s doing the rest of her nighttime routine; washing her face, braiding her hair, putting on lotion. “I need to shave- I can’t turn up at my interview tomorrow with a five o’clock shadow.”

“Ugh, I hate when you rush me,” Riza complains, sounding slightly… Pained? Roy is concerned, but relief washes over him when she opens the door only looking mildly annoyed, her hair wrapped up in a towel and her body wrapped up in a bathrobe. “Come in.”

 

The bathroom is large enough that they can both comfortable fit, so Roy squeezes into the room- but before he goes for his razor and shaving cream, he asks-

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“Round ligament pain,” Riza complains. So far, it’s the symptom that seems to bother her the most; growing pains in the muscles surrounding her baby bump that have seemed to be getting consistently worse since their wedding. The pains are making it increasingly hard for her to do anything from sitting down to standing up to exercising to basic house chores. It’s one of many reasons Roy has been trying to get her to put in her leave (to no avail, of course). “I can’t bend over without it hurting. Shaving was hell and trying to trim my toenails has been even worse.”

 

“Sit,” Roy says, gaze flickering to Riza’s stomach and then to the nail trimmers held in one of her hands. “I’ll do them.”

 

Riza just blinks at him. 

 

“What?”

 

“I said that I’ll do them,” He reiterates, to which Riza glares at him. “Sit down.”

 

“Roy, I’m not letting you trim my toenails.”

 

Roy lets out a slow, sharp exhale, eyes falling shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer finger.

 

Of course, he wouldn’t push this if Riza weren’t pregnant. But she is pregnant, and yet, this entire time, she’s been acting like she’s not; hiding it from him for the first few weeks, braving through horrid morning sickness all on her own, overworking herself, wearing clothes that are too big and doing whatever else she can to keep the secret close to her chest.

 

Roy hates it. He hates that this is how her pregnancy has had to be; stressful, chaotic, and a well kept secret. It’s just… Not what he wanted. He didn’t know if they’d ever have children before it happened, but the more he’s thought about it, the more he dwells on the fact that this just isn’t what he wanted. 

 

If Roy could’ve had it his way, they would’ve been married for a while first instead of having to rush through a shotgun wedding. They would’ve planned the baby and found out about the pregnancy together, celebrated together instead of crying together in Riza’s bed over lemon meringue pie in a flurry of conflicting emotions. 

 

They would’ve done some sort of cute announcement to their friends, who would have felt nothing but joy rather than asking questions about what they’re going to do next- and instead of Riza having to bundle up in too big clothes and his coat to hide their growing child from their onlookers, she’d be able to lounge about in cute maternity wear. They’d be able to go shopping for baby toys, cribs, and clothes without worrying about being seen. They’d be happy. And Riza would be at home, relaxing, enjoying what’s supposed to be a magical experience instead of spending the entirety of it drowning. 

 

She’s been so incredibly strong throughout all of this that Roy feels utterly weak and useless in comparison. He can’t help but push Riza to let him take care of her, because at this point, she’s doing the bulk of the work and all he can really do to help is take care of her while she takes care of… Well, everything else . 

 

“Why not?” Roy asks, all but snatching the nail clippers from Riza’s hands and doing his best to ignore the bright red blush on Riza’s cheeks as he sits on the floor. 

 

“It’s just weird ,” Riza screws her eyes shut and clenches her fist, to which Roy frowns, because really; it’s clipping toenails, not anything ‘weird’ and definitely not anything worth getting up in arms about like she is right now. 

 

“Riza, I’m going to watch you have a baby in a few months’ time and you’re upset about me potentially cutting your nails for you?”

 

“God, don’t even make me think about that,” Riza groans, as if she can’t bear the thought, and the sight makes Roy’s heart ache. He can’t blame her. It’s not like they haven’t been through horrible pain before, but the fact that this is something so new that neither of them have any reference for aside from a handful of books on the matter is terrifying. But Roy can’t let Riza know that he’s scared, not when she’s the one going through it and all he’s going to be doing is watching, and certainly not when she’s saying- “I don’t even want you in the room.”

 

If Roy’s heart ached before, it’s broken now, shattering into tiny little pieces in his chest. Him not being in the room… He hates the mere idea of it, because he knows that Riza doesn’t trust anyone else enough to have them there for her. No, she’d be alone, scared, and in pain, and he’d be worried to death the entire time. 

 

“The hell?” He demands, the calm demeanor that he had initially tried to tackle this with slowly slipping away as panic and frustration start to overtake him. “What do you mean you don’t want me in the room?”

 

“I mean that I don’t want you in the room,” Riza explains, and she’s sitting on top of the bathroom counter, which takes an extraordinary amount of effort given the gradually growing baby bump that seems to make everything harder for her. “I’m not going to bar you from being there- you’re the father, you should get to see the baby when they’re first born, but…”

 

“But what?” Roy questions, fiddling nervously with the clippers in his hands as he peers up at her from where he’s sat on the floor. “Did I do something to make you feel that way?”

 

“Of course not,” Riza answers, which is a relief, but her next words are almost worse. “I’m just embarrassed, and… Scared. I’m going to be in a lot of pain and there’s going to be a lot happening and…”

 

“Riza, it’s okay,” Roy swallows tightly, unsure of how to respond to her answer. It’s almost worse than if he’d done something to make her feel that way- because if he’d done something, he might be able to fix it, but this? Her feelings? Roy can’t fix those, because he knows damn well he would be feeling the same way if he were her. But he can try. And he commits himself to trying, not to fix it entirely, but to reassure her. “I can’t tell you that you shouldn’t be scared, because neither of us know what it’s going to be like, but you definitely shouldn’t be embarrassed .”

 

“It’s just-” Riza places her hands on the edges of the bathroom counter, gripping the marble so hard that her fingers tremble. She won’t look at him. “I’ve always been so prideful… It’s going to be hard to be vulnerable like that in front of anyone. Especially you.”

 

“Riza… I don’t know how to say this, but I think I’ve seen worse.”

 

“Really? I can’t imagine anything much worse than you watching me give birth,” Riza says with a small chuckle.

 

A chuckle. That’s progress, at least. It’s nice to see her smile. There’s moments, here and there, where she still does, but it feels more infrequent than Roy would like since they found out about the baby. 

 

“I burned the skin off your back not that long ago… And took care of you for weeks after the fact. I saw you get your throat slit, and we were in the hospital together after that for weeks, too. I’ve seen homunculi, human transmutation, war- pretty much every horror imaginable,” He rambles, and it’s still not quite as delicate as he’d like. Maybe talking about this isn’t the right thing at all, but he needs her to know that the last thing she should be concerned with while giving birth is him . “I’m not worried about being there when you have the baby, or about doing things for you leading up to it, because we’ve both seen so much worse. As long as you and the baby are alive and well by the end of it, I’ll be happy. I don’t care about anything else.”

 

“Roy,” Riza starts, but she doesn’t have to finish for Roy to know what she’s going to ask, because he knows her and he knows her expressions.

 

The one that she’s wearing right now is full of doubt, so he says it again. He’ll say it as many times as he needs to. 

 

“And I mean that, in every way. You’ve spent so many years taking care of me that I want to spend some time taking care of you. I’ve seen you at your worst, and you’ve seen me at my worst, and we’ve loved each other through it. This won’t be any different, so… Let me take care of you.”

 

“Fine,” Riza sighs, scooting forward a little bit on the counter. “You can cut them.”

 

“And I can be in the room,” Roy scoots forward where he’s sat on the floor to meet her, taking one of her feet in one hand and using the other to start carefully trimming her nails with the clippers. “Right?”

 

“I wasn’t going to kick you out of the room,” Riza offers a soft smile, peering down at him, and even after all these years, Roy’s heart skips a beat. “It’s like I said, you should get to see the baby as soon as they’re born.”

 

“But I want you to want me there.”

 

“Okay,” Riza relents, her smile turning into a full on grin that cuts right through the tension in the room. “I want you there. Happy?”

 

And Roy grins right back at her.

 

“Very much so.”

Chapter 17

Notes:

Hey yall! Sorry it's been so long since the last update. I was just sort of having a hard time with this particular chapter because it contains stuff that I don't write very often. You know that anxiety where you dread doing something because you're afraid it'll come out wrong so you just... Don't do it? Yeah, that is what happened here, but it's done and it's out! I've sort of come to this realization recently that I probably shouldn't post fics until they're fully prewritten because I'm really bad about updating weekly/monthly/whatever otherwise. That being said, I am hoping to come back to this and update it more often, and I 100% plan on finishing it/generally have most of the chapters that are left at least drafted, but I'm not going to try to hold myself to a strict update schedule either. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy! <3

Another week passes, leaving Riza Hawkeye almost six months pregnant and the most stressed that she’s been in years. 

 

Pregnancy, everyone says, is supposed to be beautiful- but they never talk about the suffocating weight of it, the constant ache that coils around your body and the emotional volatility that can turn even a woman as composed as Riza into a mess- and she understands the science of it, the fact that she’s still the same person who’s just going through intense hormonal changes, but that doesn’t make it any easier. Not when she’s spent a lifetime surviving worse. From her loveless childhood under the roof of a father who saw her as little more than a vessel for his legacy, to the horrors of Ishval, to the many years spent following Roy- she’s survived it all. Abuse, war, homunculi- the political climb that’s led them to where they’re at now. She’s endured every waking nightmare Amestris has thrown her way with silence and composure.

 

Surely, pregnancy- something natural and, now that it’s happened, wanted - should be easier than any of that… And yet, it’s not. It’s harder somehow in a way that she just can’t put her finger on, and this morning, it curdles into something new; something worse. 

 

She wakes with a gasp, clutching at the sheets. The room is dark, shadows pooling against the walls, and Roy lies warm and asleep and alive beside her. She tells herself that it was just a bad dream- her nightmares have been worse since she found out about the baby- but the dread doesn’t leave. It lingers, thick and heavy in her lungs until it’s hard to breathe.

 

Something’s wrong.

 

She lies there in the quiet, curling one hand over the swell of her stomach beneath the blankets. The baby is kicking- moving and perfectly fine and alive - that must’ve been what woke her up. Still, her breaths come slow and shallow, and the dread won’t leave. She catalogues the feeling instinctively, because she’s felt it before. Not often, but often enough to know exactly what it is. 

 

She felt it on the evening that her father died… The day her and her classmates got sent to Ishval… Her first kill… Nina, Alexander, Maes, Lust- The Promised Day, of course, and now… Today. 

 

Almost as if on cue, Roy stirs, blinking groggily at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It’s just past five in the morning. Early, but not early enough for either of them to go back to sleep. He glances at her, and immediately, his bleary expression turns fearful. 

 

“Riza?” He starts, his voice low and rough with sleep. He moves closer to wrap an arm around her so he can pull her close to him and press a kiss to her temple. “What’s wrong?”

 

“I don’t think we should go in today,” She answers after a few seconds too long. 

 

“That’s… Unlike you,” Roy mutters, reaching forward to push a stray lock of hair away from her face before sliding a hand down to rest on her stomach, probably hoping to experience the baby kicks even though they always stop moving the second anyone tries to feel. “Why not?”

 

“I don’t know... I’m anxious,” Riza admits, a small sigh falling from in between her lips as she realizes that she has no idea how to explain her compounding dread in a way that sounds even remotely logical. If she tells Roy, he’ll find a logical method with which to explain it all away like he always does, but she can’t not tell him either. “I’ve got that gut feeling. That one I always get before something bad happens.”

 

“You can stay home if you want. You are pregnant- I think if anyone has an excuse to ditch work, it’s you,” Roy tries to reassure her, even adding in an intentionally light edge to his tone, but it doesn’t help. If anything, it makes things worse, because things have been too good recently despite their complicated circumstances and she can’t shake the feeling that something is going to come along and ruin it. Roy sits up again and moves to sit on the corner of the bed, tossing his legs over the edge and stretching. “But I have to go. There’s too much going on right now for me to be taking off any more than I already have lately.”

 

Roy has a point- he’s taken off for her doctor’s appointments, and once when she was having an awful day of morning sickness, but the way that he words it… Of course, there is a lot going on right now- between their promotions, the unexpected pregnancy, the wedding, and the never ending political drama, there is, in fact, too much going on for either of them to be missing work- but something about how Roy says it paired with the nervousness written across his face tells her exactly one thing;

 

He’s hiding something from her. He’s been hiding something from her. 

 

Immediately, Riza sits up, leans forward, and narrows her honey-hued eyes to get a better look at him in the low morning light of the room. 

 

“What do you mean?” She asks, slow and intentional. 

 

“I… Look, I didn’t want to worry you, but you always just have this way of knowing things, so I might as well tell you now,” Roy tenses like a man bracing for impact, screwing his eyes shut before continuing with- “It’s-”

 

“Wait,” She cuts him off before she can think better of it, because while she doesn’t want him hiding things from her… There’s a part of her that knows full well she can’t handle anything else right now. Just one more horrible thing in the midst of the complete and utter chaos that has been the time since Roy’s promotion, and she’s at risk of having yet another emotional breakdown. But she can’t tell him that, can she? No, she knows that she can. He would be supportive and understanding like he’s always been- no, there’s just a prideful part of her that doesn’t want to admit that everything is starting to get to her and that she desperately needs some sort of break. “I…”

 

“What is it?”

 

“I can’t handle more stressful news right now. I just can’t,” She sighs, staring down into the pile of blankets on her lap and frowning when she sees that half of it is obscured by her protruding baby bump. Not too much longer and she’s going to have to stop going to work- it’s getting to a point that hiding it is virtually impossible no matter what she wears. “Is it emergent?”

 

“No,” He answers, but there’s nervousness in his voice that makes Riza doubtful. 

 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so weak-”

 

“You’re not weak. In the last six months, you’ve dealt with both of us being promoted, finding out about the pregnancy, and the wedding, all while drowning in work and trying to keep all of this shit a secret from the public,” Roy interjects. “I wish I could help you more.”

 

“You help me more than enough,” She says, because it’s true- Roy, while knee-deep in his responsibilities as Fuhrer, has also taken over almost all of the housework. 

 

“You should stay home today,” That idea is all too tempting. Riza would kill to spend the day here in the Fuhrer’s mansion, lounging and spending time with Black Hayate- but then she thinks of Roy, alone, unguarded and overworked, and she decides against it. “You know… Lay around, eat weird stuff, wear whatever you want- like you’re supposed to.”

 

“No. If you’re going, I am, too.”

 

Roy shrugs and stands from the bed to turn on the bedroom light. Riza closes her eyes as she adjusts to the sudden brightness, but she can hear his footsteps on the floor and imagine him rummaging around for the pieces of his uniform. 

 

“Have you thought any more about when you’re going to start your leave?” He asks, to which Riza looks at him from where she’s still sitting in the bed, frowning. “I know I’ve mentioned it in passing once or twice, but I was thinking we could just tell the public that you’re pregnant but not give them an exact due date- claim it’s for security reasons, they’ll assume it happened right after the wedding and then we at least have a few extra months to figure out exactly how we’re going to deal with this whole-”

 

“Roy,” She interrupts. “I’m not going on leave yet.”

 

There’s a long, tense pause where Riza sees the disappointment in Roy’s shoulders before he turns toward the mirror- not arguing, not pressing- but still, she can feel that he disagrees.

 

“I understand,” He sighs, and maybe he does. Or maybe he doesn’t. It doesn’t matter either way, because Riza plans on staying by his side until she physically can’t anymore- because leaving him now would feel like abandoning everything they’ve built- abandoning him. She doesn’t know how to do that, and she certainly doesn’t want to learn. “If you’re really insistent on going, maybe we could just do a half day. We’ll see how you’re feeling around lunch.”

 

“Alright,” She answers, smiling despite herself. “I love you.”

 

He turns again, steps towards her, and bends to kiss her forehead again, his hand returning to her stomach for just a moment before he murmurs-

 

“I love you, too.”

 

~

 

And so, they go to work.

 

The sun is bright and beautiful as soon as it rises, making central command pleasantly warm but not stifling, and their meetings go by with the rare, seamless efficiency that they almost never do. The team has been more productive lately, seemingly desperate to take more weight off of Roy and Riza’s shoulders, so the majority of their paperwork is already done. She’s able to stay in the Fuhrer’s office with Roy for most of the day, sitting with him at his desk in a chair of her own, comfortably dressed in a uniform that’s a couple of sizes too large in the coat. No one has looked at her for two long- no gossipping subordinates, no shifty or difficult Halcrow today- and she should be grateful for it. Relieved, even. 

 

But the dread in her stomach refuses to go away. The day has been good. Too good. That’s the problem. 

 

Roy is sitting next to her at the desk, sleeves rolled up, signature scrawled across the last of what’s left of their paperwork. He looks calm and focused- tired, but not worn entirely thin in the way that he has been lately. When he glances up at Riza and gives that small, crooked smirk of his, something in her chest aches. 

 

“You’re staring, general,” He teases.

 

“And you’re slouching, sir, ” She retorts with a small smirk of her own. “If you keep that up, you’re going to be hunched like an old man by the time that this baby’s born. You better hurry up and fix that posture.”

 

“So what if I have a hunchback? Our little Elizabeth will love me regardless,” Roy chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “And so will you.”

 

“You’re going to be heartbroken when I give birth and it’s a boy,” She scoffs, because Roy has almost exclusively been referring to the baby as ‘Elizabeth’ and insisting that it’s going to be a girl since they first discussed names. She doesn’t think that either of them care too much about the gender in all actuality, but it’s become an inside joke between them- Roy says that the baby is a girl, and Riza brushes him off with the very real possibility of the baby being a girl. When Roy lets out a full on laugh in response, she says- “You’re in an awfully good mood today.”

 

“Can you blame me? We haven’t had a day this good since before the wedding- everything’s just been so chaotic.”

 

“That’s exactly why I’m worried. Today really has been too good.”

 

Roy’s smile falls.

 

“Still feeling anxious?”

 

“No,” She lies. “Just a little tired.”

 

She presses a hand to the desk as she rises from the chair and walks toward the window just behind them, examining the sky. It’s a beautiful day- blue and unmarred by clouds- but the window makes Riza anxious. It’s high up, meaning that there’s a large portion of the ground beneath it that she can’t see from here. The idea of someone being outside of it and neither of them having any idea scares her. There are soldiers stationed outside of central command to maintain security, but you can never be too careful. She’s been telling Roy since his promotion that he needs to get it taken out and replaced with drywall, or to at least move the desk to the opposite end of the room so he’s not so close to the damn thing with his back facing it. He, of course, insists that it’s nothing to be worried about and that they can handle any idiot who might try to assassinate him via the office window. 

 

Roy goes quiet for a moment, his gaze following hers. She hears the chair creak as he turns around to face her fully.

 

“We could still take that half day I mentioned earlier,” He offers. “Call it a diplomatic health measure… The first lady’s delicate condition demands reprieve and she needs her husband to tend to her every need as she recuperates.”

 

Riza turns toward him just in time to catch the raised brow and lazy grin he’s aiming at her. It almost works. She almost smiles.

 

“I’m not delicate,” She huffs.

 

“No, you’re really not,” He murmurs, and the grin fades to something softer before he turns to face the paperwork on his desk again. “Not to say that I don’t love you just as much when you’re vulnerable, but I’ve always admired your strength. It’s part of why I fell in love with you.”

 

Riza walks away from the window and crosses the room, still somehow flustered by those intimate compliments of his after all of these years, and then-

 

Glass shatters.

 

It’s so sudden and sharp against the peaceful quiet of the day that it takes Riza half a second to register the sound. Then, the reality of it hits. That damn window. Right behind Roy. There’s the sound of boots and a flash of Amestrian blue, two men crashing into the office through the high windows behind the desk, shards of glass trailing around them like rain. She doesn’t have to ask questions to know that they’re not allies despite the fact that they’re wearing the very same uniforms. Riza is moving before she can even think about the how or the why, gun drawn so she can shoot the first target- the first man- right in the middle.

 

The recoil kicks up her arm, her ears ring, and the man crumples to the ground without so much as making a noise. The second one, seemingly undeterred, charges straight for Roy, who was knocked out of his chair and to the floor. 

 

And Roy- Roy should clap his hands together and transmute a barrier, or snap his fingers and make a flame- snap his fingers and burn the man, not enough to kill him, but enough to incapacitate him so that they can make an arrest and do an interrogation to find out what the hell this is. Him and Riza have fought together for long enough that she doesn’t even look toward him in question after she fires. She flinches, expecting the heat, the flash, the stench of scorched cloth and flesh that will inevitably make her have nightmares about Ishval tonight.

 

But it doesn’t come.

 

She manages to turn and look at him, and it’s then that she sees it. Roy’s hand is raised, his fingers positioned to snap, but he’s frozen, eyes wide, just for a second as Riza moves towards them both with her pistol aimed. And Riza doesn’t have to ask to know what Roy is thinking; the attacker is too close, and he hasn’t used his alchemy like this in the same room as Riza since they found out about the baby. They don’t know about the effects of the smoke- or worse, if he somehow managed to burn her again. 

 

In the split second that Roy pauses, the man lunges. Roy ducks too late, his abandoned chair sent flying across the room as the attacker slams into him. They hit the floor with a thud and a grunt, limbs scrambling. Roy blocks the first punch, but the second lands hard. Riza fires again- grazes the man’s shoulder, but it doesn’t stop him, and with the way they’re tumbling around, she can’t get a clean shot without risking hitting Roy. She moves fast, trying to circle, trying to-

 

But the world blurs. 

 

Pain hits her like a sledgehammer to the ribs. Something crashes into her from the side- the wounded man, somehow still moving despite a bullet that hit his back and flew clean through his chest- and they both go down hard. Her gun skitters out of reach. She gasps, one arm shielding her stomach on instinct and the other reaching for her spare pistol, back slamming into the edge of a bookshelf. Her vision goes white, though whether it be for a minute or an hour, she can’t tell. 

 

“Roy!?” She calls, blinking, trying to regain her senses and tell if he’s still alive- if somehow, after all of these years, she’s failed him. 

 

“Riza!” He calls back, thank god. She hears the snap, then- a crackle, a short burst, heat surrounding her- pinpoint alchemy, but she doesn’t know if it hit and she’s still on the floor and-

 

Bang.

 

The weight on her suddenly goes limp, falling to the ground. She scrambles up onto her elbows on the office floor, ignoring the pain screaming through her ribs. The other man is still on Roy when-

 

Bang. 

 

Another shot. It’s not Riza’s.

 

She looks to the door to see none other than Jean Havoc, rifle half-raised and head tilted in confusion as he looks between the two men that he’s just shot- likely dead. 

 

“Jesus,” He breathes, dropping his rifle to the floor. “I just came to tell you guys about… Oh, never mind. What the hell happened?”

 

Silence takes over as Riza just sits there, trying to catch her breath. Roy has managed to push the assailant off of him, but he’s out of breath too, injured and covered in blood as he crawls across the room to Riza and pulls her into his arms. She meets his gaze and sees the horror in his face- not at the attack, not at the blood, but at himself. 

 

“I hesitated,” He says, barely audible. “I… I hesitated.”

 

And for the first time in all the years that she’s known him, Riza doesn’t know what to say. So, she doesn't say anything. Instead, she stands from the floor, gently intertwines her fingers with Roy's, and helps him up.

 

"You two, go to the hospital and get checked out," Havoc says, fully entering the room and heading for the phone- probably to call the rest of the team. "We'll hold down the fort."

Riza nods in thanks- and with that, they leave the office and slip down the halls of central command, drenched in equal parts blood and guilt.