Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Of Ballet and Bullets ❯ Pret-a-Porte ( Chapter 10 )

Of Ballet and Bullets

 

Part 10 - Prêt-a-Porte

 

A Full Metal Alchemist fanfiction, By Serenanna

 

Warnings and Disclaimers: I don't own Full Metal Alchemist or any of the characters. I'm just borrowing them to play with. I'll return them later, promise. There is violence, adult content, and sexual situations in this story. So, if you're under 18, leave now before your virgin eyes are scarred forever, if you're over 18, enjoy!

 

Story Notes: Time frame for this fic doesn't matter as my knowledge of FMA is a bit scattered but obviously before the ending and Maes's death, and set during the anime series. Also, this is an Ed/Winry and Roy/Riza fic (Two for the price of one!). Being this is fanfiction, liberties were taken with the actions of the characters and certain parts of the fic are not canonal, I just don't know which ones. This fic hinges on a lot more plot compared to the last time out in Overhaul, Overhaul 2, and A Betting Crowd, which I recommend reading before diving into this. This one has violent action scenes, suspense, humor, and mild angst in it, so the sex and romance may be few and far between. In summary, you're all getting what I call a real plot. No, really, I'm actually working on a real plot this time! Read the above disclaimers again if you're still squeamish about reading this, blood splatter included, but I assure you, it'll be worth it in the end probably. Again, no pieces of automail, skirts, guns, tuxedoes, or ballet dancers were harmed in the production of this piece of . . . well . . .

 

**********

 

“Ow!” Edward yelped, trying not to flinch in pain, “Watch where you're putting those things!”

 

“They're pins, Mr. Elric . . .” said the older man hunched over his shoulder, sticking another pin into the underarm of the half-assembled jacket. This had to be beyond humiliating, standing on a small wooden platform while getting poke, pinched, prodded, and your appearance dissected by people you didn't even know. There was another stuck pin in his underarm, and Ed had to bite his tongue to stay quiet. Didn't he make it clear enough to everyone in the office that he hated sharp, point, needle-like objects prodding him? Looking in the mirror, the alchemist frowned at his reflection, wishing he was anywhere else. From a chair not too far away, there was a chuckle from behind the held-up newspaper. The young alchemist also wished he was with anyone else. He shifted again and the tailor abruptly shoved his shoulders back. “Stay put!” he yelled as Edward just scowled, “. . . Mr. Mustang, perhaps you could make your young charge stand still long enough for me to finish?”

 

“You heard him, FullMetal. Stand still, and it'll all be over soon,” Roy said with a lackadaisical wave of his hand, not even bothering to look over the top of the paper. The Colonel's entire attitude only made him more insufferable to Ed as his frown deepened. In fact, the whole situation was depressing the more he looked at himself in the mirror. He just knew that he'd look like a midget in a gorilla suit as he stood there, the tailor pinning up enough fabric to make two tuxedos. There was another snicker from the officer in chair, and a flutter of newsprint. Ed's head whipped towards him, scowling while trying to stand still, “Oh, just yuck it up. You're next to get needled after me.”

 

“Mine's already done, just need to make sure it still fits,” the Colonel said as he sounded bored, “Feel lucky, Edward, this gentleman is practically mothering you compared to fittings for dress uniforms.”

 

Edward shuddered, trying not to imagine the military's blue and silver thrown on him instead, “I'll pass, thank you.”

 

Behind the paper, Roy smirked, “At least this is better than dress shopping. I don't envy Riza right now, watching Winry trying on gown after gown. Will probably take them all day.”

 

Actually, Edward did kind of wish he was there right now. The view would have been nice and the company infinitely better. And it was better than being poked, “Ow!”

 

“Almost done, Mr. Elric . . .”

 

“Don't call me that . . . it reminds me too much of my father,” Ed muttered, looking darkly at the mirror again, “I look horrible . . .”

 

“It isn't even finished, sir.”

 

“Doesn't mean there'll be much of an improvement,” he groused till there was another ruffling of newspaper. Looking over, he saw that Roy had finally put the paper down to glare at him. Ed smirked back, hearing the chastisement in his head before he actually spoke. “Major, it will be fine, so stop complaining and get used to it,” the Colonel said before grinning, “Besides, it doesn't matter what we think. I'm sure no matter how bad you think you look, Miss Rockbell will like it.”

 

Edward had to fight down the blush at the mention of Winry's opinion. For once, Colonel Bastard was probably right. She did like just about anything he wore, and the tuxedo could have been worse. Slowly, he exhaled, trying to calm down . . . at least until he was pinned again, “Ow!”

 

“Last one.”

 

“Thank goodness,” Ed said under his breath, scowling. The tailor ignored the comment and left as Mustang got up, moving behind the alchemist. Alone with the Colonel, the annoyed look on his face turned downwards into a frown, “I'm worried.”

 

“Everything's going to be fine. When we're done here, we're going to meet Hughes at the Conservatory to go over the box, and get the circles ready. Falman will be by later with the tickets and the latest reports. It's all set, just like we planned. We'll catch these snipers and you can go back to wrecking a path of destruction through the land, one alchemistical mishap at a time,” Roy said grinning as he patted the kid on the shoulder.

 

Ed violently backhanded the hand off of him. Maybe he was worrying too much. The Colonel's plan was simple, too simple, but it worked even if it was potentially dangerous. Yet, who knew what other surprises these assassins could be holding up their sleeves? The effort would worth it in the end as the crisis would be all over. He and Al could get back on the road again, Winry would be safe in Rizembool once more, and he wouldn't have to put up with Roy Mustang for this long ever. “Alright, fine, but . . .” he started to say, trying to figure out how to say his real concern without revealing too much, “Are you sure we shouldn't inform Winry?”

 

“Do I detect a hint of fear in your voice, FullMetal?” Roy asked before smirking, “I thought you already blamed whatever happens on my head?”

 

“I did, but she'll figure out eventually that I'm lying to her, then I'll get wrenched,” Ed muttered with a frown, imagining results a lot worse for him than a mere bump on the noggin, “It was a bad idea to bring her along . . .”

 

“Men don't go to the ballet alone, Edward, not even kids like you,” the Colonel said before turning away to walk towards a garment bag lying next to the chair he'd previously been sitting in. Picking it up, he then moved across to the dressing rooms. About to enter one of them through the curtain, Roy stopped, looking back at the boy with an emotion akin to guilt on his face. “If something goes wrong, not the unthinkable, but just something she won't forgive you over . . . I'll do what I can to make it up to you both . . .” he said, sincerely for once.

 

Despite his words, Ed snorted derisively, not believing the Colonel at all, “Thanks, but no thanks. I'll . . . handle it on my own somehow . . .”

 

“Suit yourself,” Roy muttered as he left, quickly, not letting his wounded pride show. Who was he kidding with that pathetic offer? Ed was just as prideful as he was, so there was no point in trying to be helpful when it came to the girl. Besides what could he do? Maybe everyone was right about him after all. Maybe he was truly useless.

 

**********

 

Winry gasped at another tug on the back of the gown, feeling her breath stolen from her little by little. “Is it supposed to be this tight?” she asked, trying not to wince.

 

Standing just behind her as another woman laced the back of the dress, Riza tried not to grin, “Yes, it is. It is a corset after all.”

 

“Oh, well . . . I suppose it's fine then,” she said with a small blush before gasping again when another yank tightened the gown around her. Looking in the three-fold mirror, she wasn't so sure about this dress in particular, but the Lieutenant had picked it out for her to try on after all the others she'd chosen herself looked abysmal on her. Winry glanced over her shoulder at Riza, unsure if she should trust her judgment or not. The woman's style was so much more mature than what she wore. The tall, black heeled boots, the slim skirt of mint green wool with the matching cropped jacket, and the charcoal grey sweater she wore underneath looked so sophisticated that Winry was sure her taste was out classed. Maybe that was why she'd let herself be talked into trying on the burgundy gown that wasn't her style of prettiness at all.

 

The final lace was yanked with another gasp from the girl then tied in a bow as she stood on the small wooden platform. She let out a breath, but couldn't completely. Her stomach felt like it was almost up to her chest while her breasts look like they would fall out the top of the strapless bodice if she tried to take a deep breath. “I don't know about this one . . .” Winry said as she smoothed a hand down the front of the corset, smoothing the rich silk satin.

 

“It does look lovely on you if I may say. The look is very fashionably this season with the asymmetrical drape across the hip and the trailing skirts rather than full ball gowns. There's enough fullness in the back that it's similar to the bustles from last season, and the shape in the corset suits you. A pretty young thing like you wears it much better than some of the women I've seen try it on,” the seamstress said before she bent down to flounce the skirts in the back then fiddled with the pleating at the base of the corset, “Doesn't need much work to it either. Need to take the skirt up an inch, and let out the bodice along the bust line.”

 

“I don't know . . . Ed does like red, but . . .” Winry said as she frowned, turning slightly to see the back of the gown. There was something about the way it looked on her that made her feel out of place. It was beautiful, almost too beautiful. Something was missing. Looking back in the mirror, it started to sink in to the mechanic exactly what was wrong. It wasn't the dress, it was her. She looked like a little girl in grown up clothing, trying to be adult by not being herself at all. While she was sure the gown would have been gorgeous on Hawkeye, and there was no denying it looked good on her too, but it wasn't her at all. “I wouldn't normally wear this,” she admitted, frowning, “I don't think this is the one . . .”

 

“But, my dear, you're going to the ballet. It's not a normal occasion. I mean, really, what do you expect to wear?” the woman said as Riza could see a biting remark just coming. Stepping forward, she stopped the seamstress before she could continue. “That's enough, I think I have an idea of what's bothering her,” the Lieutenant said with a warm smile, “Could you give us a moment?”

 

Huffing, the woman turned away to retreat into the back of the shop, letting the two ladies talk in private. Winry's blue eyes looked down at the floor, feeling depressed. Nothing she'd tried on felt right. The dresses were either too much silliness with lace and bows, too dark, or too exposing. This was the first one that made her feel too young to wear it. As much as she wanted to look amazing for her first ever date with Edward, her hopes of finding the perfect dress were quickly being dashed. But was that really what was bothering her, silliness over clothing? The butterflies in her stomach didn't think so even if the corset kept them from fluttering. She was nervous from feeling like she wasn't good enough.

 

It hadn't set in the mechanic girl's mind that they were indeed going to the ballet for their first, albeit chaperoned, date till she tried on the first gown. The red satin was fit for a true lady, and Winry knew she was no lady. Her mouth was too loud, her hands too rough, she wasn't graceful, and she certainly wasn't terribly polite. She was used to knocking Edward over the head with a wrench when she was angry with him for goodness sake, the anti-thesis of ladylike behavior. The last thing she wanted was to embarrass Ed or herself in public, especially in such a high-class place as the ballet. It would have been less pressure if he had asked her somewhere else, like out to dinner or something. Being asked to a ballet premiere was romantic, very abnormally romantic for the alchemist to do, scaring her that she couldn't live up to his expectations. “I don't know if I can do this,” Winry said, the nervousness making her voice higher and tenser than normal, “I'm going to fall flat on my face in this dress. It'll be a disaster!”

 

Riza tried not to grin again, remembering almost the same words coming out of the mouth of Gracia Hughes upon trying on her wedding dress. While the selection of this dress wasn't as monumental as that choice, it was obvious from the way Winry was acting that her pickiness masked deeper seeded insecurities. Somehow, she wished the older woman was there right now with them to watch the girl try on all these gowns. Maes's wife was better at the whole mothering thing anyway than she would ever be. “You're not going to fall on your face,” Riza said, trying to reassure her as she moved into view of the mirror, “You will be just fine.”

 

“I just want everything to be perfect . . .”

 

“Rarely does anything ever go perfectly,” the Lieutenant said with a firm nod. Oh, was that ever the truth coming from the sharp-shooter. If Winry ever knew why they were going to the ballet, really, she'd probably be scared to death rather than merely nervous. And her emotions wouldn't be over just a dress either. “What are you afraid of?” Riza asked, bluntly.

 

She took in a deep breath at the question, and let it out slowly before she spoke, “I . . . I can't really tell you. Just that . . . well, I just wish he would have asked me somewhere else for a first date . . .”

 

At the grin on the older woman's face, Winry blushed the same deep red as the gown she wore. Perhaps she had admitted a bit too much, and yet, the Lieutenant didn't look surprised at all. “It's alright,” Riza said softly, her grin lessening into a gentle smile, “I already know there's something going on between you both.”

 

“Y-You do!? But Ed said-,” she said, turning towards the blonde suddenly, “I thought no one knew except my grandmother!”

 

Hawkeye's brown eyes shifted uncomfortably sideways at the admission. After what she'd witnessed that very morning, she wondered how much Pinako Rockbell did know about the relationship between her ward and the elder Elric brother. That was one question she wasn't about to ask given the dazed look on the girl's face already. Maybe she shouldn't have admitted that she knew either. Feeling slightly faint, Winry stepped off the platform, sitting down on a nearby bench, moaning softly as she put her head in her hands. “Edward will kill me . . . he didn't want anyone to find out . . . about us, sort of like you and the Colonel,” she said, frowning.

 

Riza took a seat next to the girl, knowing exactly what she was talking about, “I suppose some things aren't meant to remain secrets, but . . . we can keep this one between us now. Sometimes it helps if at least a few people know, just those important to your life.”

 

“Al doesn't know . . . Edward's waiting to tell him, I think. He acts different sometimes, calmer and happier, and I wonder if his brother doesn't know already.”

 

“I'm sure he will in time, if he hasn't figured it out by now . . .” Hawkeye started to say before she trailed off. There was still a nagging worry in her head, a question she was dying to ask given what she'd seen already, “I don't mean to pry, but . . . you've been using `precautions' right?”

 

Winry turned bright red, squeaking as she tried to keep her voice down, “You knew about that too?!”

 

“Well . . . I suppose I'll take that as a yes and not ask anymore about it,” the Lieutenant said quickly, blushing as well, “I'm sorry, I know this is embarrassing for you, but . . . I can honestly say our situations are eerily familiar.”

 

After a silent moment of considering what Riza had said, Winry giggled slightly, still slumped over, “That's a heck of an understatement.”

 

The woman snorted in laughter, rubbing her companion's shoulder, “It mustn't be easy, being so attached to alchemists so . . .”

 

“Stubborn?”

 

“I would say more egotistical.”

 

“Naw, more like hair-brained.”

 

“No, definitely just plain old stupid males,” Riza said with another fit of laughs as she thought back to the two men. The girl laughed too then sighed as she realized they were digressing. Her smile faltered back into a frown, “What am I going to do . . .?”

 

“It's just the ballet, but . . . I can see your point. I'm not too happy going either, all this work to get ready for one night of sitting. I sit enough in the office as it is,” somehow, those words came out of her mouth too easily. She was lying since they were expecting trouble to begin with. “If I may ask, if you don't want anyone to know you're seeing the Colonel, why did you allow him even ask you to the ballet let alone agree to go?” Winry asked as she turned to her.

 

That was a good question as the blonde Lieutenant's eyebrows shot up. After choosing a careful explanation, she decided against it and went with simply glossing over the truth, “Chaperone detail, even if I realized now how little we're needed.”

 

It would have been another lie and a pun as well if Winry knew the truth. And yet she didn't, which made the mechanic's light giggle all the more satisfying to hear. Riza exhaled slowly in relief even if she felt guilty. There was no easy way of getting around the truth, which made lying about something as big as a potential life and death situation all the more unforgivable. Hearing the girl acknowledge the night of the ballet performance as her first date ever only made the woman feel more ashamed. The mechanic was going to kill Edward herself when the smoke cleared if he wasn't dead already. Maybe there was a way around that part of the girl's inevitable ire. “Did FullMetal ever tell you why we're going to the ballet?” Riza asked suddenly, already formulating lies in her head.

 

“Well, he did mention that it was the Colonel's idea, along with letting me stay with you both, since he had the tickets. So really I should be thanking him since he let me visit Edward,” Winry said with a bright smile. Her response made the older woman smile as well. The boy was cleverer than she thought. “I still wish it could be different though, at least for our first date,” the girl continued while smiling slightly, looking down as she spoke, “It would have been nice if he had chosen a place that wasn't so . . . grand. I've never been to the ballet. I know next to nothing on how to act, what to do, and all this fancy dressing . . .”

 

“So you're intimidated by it?”

 

“No,” the mechanic said sternly, her nose crinkled slightly in defiance, “I'm intimidated by nothing.”

 

Riza didn't look like she believed Winry's words at all, and it broke down her denials till she frowned, “I'm not intimidated . . . just nervous. I am no lady like you are.”

 

Hawkeye chuckled slightly, smiling again. Her? A lady? Well, she supposed she had her moments, but it was obvious Edward never told her of how strict the Lieutenant could be around Headquarters. Although, what would give her the impression that she was a lady? She never thought of herself as anything but a woman, certainly. Suddenly, she was wishing Gracia was there again to point out exactly how she wasn't what Winry thought she was. “I am not a lady,” the blond woman admitted, smiling slightly, “At least not any more of a lady than you are.”

 

“But you seem so much more . . . refined,” she said with a pout, “You don't hit your man over the head with tools.”

 

Riza giggled, “Doesn't stop me from at least threatening to shoot him.”

 

The girl giggled too, grinning, “I suppose I could tone it down for a night. He has been better behaved lately.”

 

“If that's all you're worried about, then you should be more concerned about both of our men deciding to fight in the lobby before one chord of music is struck.”

 

“They are pretty bad about that aren't they?”

 

“Tempers bad enough to rival volcanoes,” the Lieutenant said with sigh, remembering just how bad it had been without Winry there to keep the pip-squeak under control. The mechanic giggled, smiling again as she stood back up. She smoothed out the gown and hopped back up onto the platform, staring at her reflection in the three-fold mirror. “I still don't know about this one . . .” she whined, her face crinkling into another look of distaste.

 

A grin slowly worked its way up onto Riza's face, taking a good look at the girl in the red gown herself, “The shape is beautiful on you, maybe it's just the color.”

 

“Ed likes red . . . or black,” Winry said as her lips quirked into a smirk, “Maybe I should wear something colorful just to stick out next to him.”

 

“What's your favorite color?”

 

“Lavender, really, why?”

 

Riza's brown eyes lit up, her grin widening as she stood up, “I have an idea.”

 

Winry looked at her curiously, not certain if she liked the sound of those words coming from the older woman. Whenever Edward said something similar the results were either mixed at best or decidedly not in her favor, like that one time with the chocolate. It gave her chills just remembering it. Looking skeptical, the mechanic girl sighed, knowing she'd have little choice. Besides, it wasn't like any of the gowns she had tried on already had panned out, “What did you have in mind?”

 

**********

 

For once in what felt like a long time, Riza's apartment was silent. As she sat at the table looking over papers, the Lieutenant realized how refreshing the lack of sound was, especially after the day they'd had. The shopping had ended an hour ago with Winry's gown being made along with Ed's new tuxedo, the jewelry selected and acquired, and the parcels of everything else needed sitting in their bedrooms. It was amazing what waving military purchase authorization could get you, even if the boys still insisted on pay for the clothing. Then there were the guns too. Falman was bringing her requests from the quartermaster as well with the tickets, and knowing what she'd ordered, he'd probably have to bring someone else along to carry it all.

 

The memory of what the Colonel had said when he authorized her list brought a grin to her face. As much as he thought otherwise, there was a lot you could hide under an evening gown. She wasn't going to take any chances on this mission, not with the young lives of friends at stake.

 

Dimly, she could hear laughter and a dog barking outside the living room window. They were playing in the snow again, and it brought a smirk to her lips, knowing the mess they'd track through the apartment. Roy was in the other half of the conjoined rooms, dealing with the cats. She didn't even have to ask him this time to do it for her, of which she was grateful. The less she dealt with that woman's fur-balls, the less likely she was to permanently damage one of the precious pussies. Sighing, Riza went back the papers in front of her, the blueprints for the conservatory. The Colonel was so considerate sometimes, leaving most of the planning to her. He should have left it to Breda who did most of their strategies for field missions, but since sharp-shooting was her specialty . . .

 

A frown tugged on her lips as her brow furrowed, muttering to herself, “If I was an assassin, where would I be?”

 

There was an answer to that question on the tip of her tongue when a knock sounded on her door. She already had an idea of who it was, but she still silently crept across the room, and cautiously picked up her rifle. Craning her neck, she peered through the eyehole and then promptly put down the gun. Opening all the lock and latches, she yanked the door wide, glaring at Falman and Havoc on the other side. They were dressed in civilian clothes, looking entirely unsuspicious except for what they carried, a large box and a stake of papers and folder just as big. “You know, next time, just announce yourselves, then I don't have to point guns at the door,” Hawkeye muttered while moving to the side to let them in.

 

Jean smirked while the end of his spent cigarette pointed up, struggling with the heavy box he carried, “Somehow I doubt you'd let just any old pair of delivery men into your apartment.”

 

“Somehow I don't think our dear First Lieutenant is as trusting as you are, Havoc,” Falman said with a smile as the blond woman fought down her giggles. The Second Lieutenant glared, “I don't think I asked for your opinion, Warrant Officer. Move it before I drop this shit on your foot.”

 

Just like that, the two officers crowded through her doorway. Closing the door behind them, Riza took the box from Jean, nearly dropping it herself, “This must be all the ammo I ordered.”

 

“Planning a rebellion or something?” he joked as she quickly went down the hallway with it before the contents spilled from her arms. Riza, backing into her bedroom door to open it, yelled back at him, “A woman has to be prepared for all occasions!”

 

Turning to Falman, he added, “I bet most of it'll end up in the office walls this coming month.”

 

“You know, I would normally take that bet, but for once it sounds like you'd actually win,” Vato said with a smile as the sandy-haired officer gawked at him. Ignoring the grumbling from Jean, he put the stack of paperwork and folders he'd been carrying on top of the table where he saw the rest of the paper work. “You know, this is the first time we've ever seen Hawkeye's apartment . . .” Jean idly wondered aloud, glancing around, “It's a mess.”

 

“With FullMetal, his mechanic, and the Colonel here, are you at all surprised it isn't messier?”

 

“No, she is the most organized woman in all of Central. I'm more surprised she isn't tearing her hair out making them clean it up,” Havoc said with a smirk as Falman frowned. As much as they were friends and coworkers, sometimes the actions of the hopeless Lieutenant were beyond the understanding of his grey-haired companion. Often just watching Jean amble witlessly into impending doom was why the office rarely got much accomplished without much prodding from the female officer. Vato was having one of those impending moments of doom just watching Havoc live up to his last name. “You know, I really don't think she'd like you looking through her desk,” Falman said as Jean casually opened a drawer.

 

“I'm not looking through her desk. I'm looking for a pencil. Yes, that's it,” he said with a nod while rifling through another drawer, ignoring the sigh from across the room, “The woman keeps no photos at all, not even in the office, I swear.”

 

“Looking for blackmail material?”

 

“If it gets me out of filing duty for a while, yes, I am. Keep an eye out for her will you.”

 

“Jean . . .”

 

“Shut up. I know what I'm doing.”

 

“Havoc?”

 

“Not so loud, she'll hear you!” he said till there was a click behind him. Watching Hawkeye point a handgun at the back of the knucklehead's head, Falman's sense of impending doom only got worse. “Hear what, Second Lieutenant?” Riza asked, looking rather smug, “And why are you holding my box of staples?”

 

“Uh . . . looking for a pencil?”

 

“Next time you attempt to lie, try not to pause?” she said, rolling her eyes. Sighing, the safety on the gun clicked back into place. As soon as he heard that noise of release, Havoc dropped the box back into the drawer and shoved it closed. He quickly moved out of her way, attempting the stay out of sight behind Falman. Ignoring both men, Riza moved over to the table, noticing the new stack sitting in front of where Edward usually sat. “I take it this is more things from Maes?” she asked, eyeing the small envelope on top, “And this is our tickets?”

 

“Yes, ma'am. Lieutenant Colonel Hughes managed to get a copy of Delmark Arms' current employee records somehow. The list is in there, along with the Purchasing and Quartermaster's rosters. He already took a preliminary with Fuery, but nothing came up. He sent it along anyway since you and the Colonel wanted to take a look,” Falman explained, pausing as she started to flip through the folders, “Uh, ma'am?”

 

“Yes, Warrant Officer?”

 

“The Lieutenant Colonel wanted to know when to expect Colonel Mustang to check in for the briefing before night of the mission.”

 

“He'll be there tomorrow morning, early,” Riza said with a supreme confidence that he would be or else. The two officers looked at her in disbelief that their esteemed leader would indeed be early to the office for once. But then again, after her illustrious bet against the Colonel, and subsequent win, her word was as good as gold. She didn't notice as the two men nodded to her at all since she had found the beginning of the employee list that Falman has spoken of. It had apparently been listened in order of company position, conveniently. All the officers and directors were on top of the length list, down to the night janitors on the last pages. That always did amuse her about business, how most of them ordered their rank and file just like the State military. She went back to the beginning, closing the folder for now, “Thank you, gentlemen, I'll make sure the Colonel looks through it all before tomorrow . . . Good to have you back, Falman. I trust your leave was alright?”

 

“Yes, except if you count the cold up north this time of year.”

 

“I keep telling Breda that he must have brought back the bad weather with him,” Jean added. She laughed softly, wondering if it was true with the amounts of snow Central had been getting. Judging from Falman's frown, he didn't think it was funny, “It wasn't that cold with I left up there. It must be all the mountains bordering the city, forcing all the moisture-.”

 

“That's alright, Vato, just keep telling yourself it isn't true.”

 

“Havoc?” Riza said, an annoyed tone in her voice, “You two should be going. You're staying a bit long for delivery men.”

 

“Yes, ma'am.”

 

“Course, ma'am.”

 

“Oh, and gentlemen? If you see Miss Rockbell on the way out, she doesn't know about the operation. It is to stay like that until the Colonel decides otherwise,” she added with finality. The men nodded, and after exchanging a few more pleasantries, they were gone.

 

Breathing more easily, she sat back down at the table, still hearing laughter outside the window as well as barking and the crunch of snow. It was all going according to plan, like Roy had said, but it still nagged at her. Opening the folder that she had peeked at the first time, the blonde looked at the page in front of her, all names of the operating officers or the board of directors for Delmark Arms. Maybe one of them would jump out at her. She doubted it, and doubted that Roy would find anything either. Just as she was about to turn the page, a name did just jump out at her.

 

Marguerite Everard, member of the Delmark Arms board of directors.

 

What had Roy called her? Margie? Was it the same woman? That would be impossible. Marguerite was a common name. Just to prove herself wrong, Riza started flipping pages, scanning madly for anyone else with the same first name in the company. She found three more, a secretarial supervisor, one of the clerical staff, and an assembly worker, and about five more that were simply Margie. Alright, so it was a common name, not as common as, say, Elizabeth, but it was enough that the Lieutenant breathed a little easier now that she was finished. Exhaling deeply, she closed her eyes, and thought. She was paranoid, that was it. Their suspect was after Edward, not Roy. It was a simple panic of fear. Just when she thought she was calmed down, a touch on her shoulder made her jump straight up with a start.

 

She looked up to see Mustang standing over her, his hands raised in alarm at her yelp. Riza slowly let out another breath, clutching her shirt around her heart, “You scared me.”

 

“Sorry . . . I just finished with the cats . . . you ok?” he asked tentatively if a bit curious. He didn't think he'd startled her that much with the noise had been making. Seeing Riza obvious to the world around her was rare, and frankly, a bit unnerving to Roy. Despite his thoughts to the contrary, she gave him a reassuring smile, “I'm fine, really. I was just thinking . . .”

 

“Those must have been some thoughts . . .” he said, not believing her smile at all, and yet he didn't push the matter further. Looking down at the pile of paper before her lead him to only one conclusion, “Falman was here?”

 

“And Havoc, early midwinter gifts from Hughes,” Riza said with a small smile, thumbing the envelope on top, “Our tickets, Mr. Smith.”

 

“Thank you, Mrs. Smith . . . you didn't look at them did you?”

 

Her brown eyes blinked at him a moment, big with curiosity, “No, should I have?”

 

Chuckling a tad nervously, Roy tried to grab the envelope from her suddenly, “No, no, of course not. You'll see them tomorrow, give them here.”

 

Just as he was about pull the item from her fingers, the blonde yanked it back. There was something about his sudden need to keep her from seeing the tickets that was making her suspicious. She started to open the envelope, and Roy's mouth dropped open. “What did you do?” she asked accusingly, pulling back the top flap faster.

 

“Nothing! Absolutely nothing! Just-!” He yelled, but it was too late. Riza's mouth fell open as well when she finally pulled the tickets out. She was staring at the name on top, her eyes only increasing in size when she came to the second ticket. “Roy . . .” she started to say, “Why does this ticket say Mrs. Roy Mustang?”

 

The fingers holding the flimsy pieces of paper twitched. That was not a good sign as Roy started scanning the vicinity for handguns, spotting one on the table directly to her right. The alchemist paled, “Oh, shit . . .”

 

**********

 

Despite being almost drenched in melting snow, Ed was happy, actually smiling as Winry hopped up the stairs in front of him with Black Hayate yipping happily at her heels. The puppy had taken to the mechanic just like he thought would happen. “You certainly have a way with dogs, you know,” he said as she giggled, stopping to glance over her shoulder.

 

“I also have a way with metal too, but apparently not with snow. Did you have to pack a few of those balls so hard?” the girl asked, a slight whine in her voice. She stopped at the top of the stair case, turning towards him. The alchemist stopped as well, looking apologetic while the dog bounded back and forth between them. His mouth opened, some half-thought excuse ready to come out, but it died in his throat with the look on Winry's blue eyes. She looked at him nervously with her lips pressed into an even line across her face, chewing the inside. “What is it?” he asking, knowing whatever her question was, it wasn't good.

 

“I'm just curious about those two men that left before we came inside. They waved at you . . . who were they?”

 

He was right. That wasn't a good question for her to ask. Then again, he could blame the whole thing on Havoc the next time he saw him for waving at him like an idiot. Winry gave a small whine of annoyance as he took longer to come up with an answer. Hayate stopped moving as happily. The puppy stared at them after planting himself on the step right between them. When he was sure she was about to snap at him in aggravation, his heart took over for his more logical side, “They're from the office, probably delivering more paperwork to the Colonel.”

 

Well, it was the truth. That answer seemed to satisfy her as she smiled, “Oh, is that all?”

 

Ed nodded, more than eager for her to drop the questioning. Just when he thought he was off the hook though when she turned away, she turned back. This time, her question couldn't be answered with the truth, “Why?”

 

“Why? I don't know why. They never tell me anything,” the alchemist growled as he tried to move around her. He purposefully avoided her gaze, knowing that one look of those baby blues would make his guilt painfully hammer in his heart. She caught his metal shoulder before he was so fortunate to escape, pushing him back down the stairs. Winry knew he was hiding something. That much was evident in his avoidance. “Edward . . .” she said, half-threatening, half-compassionate, “What are you not telling me?”

 

“Nothing, absolutely nothing,” he said, this time looking into her eyes no matter how much his chest wanted to twist in pain. Lying, oh how he hated lying, especially around her. He knew she could probably see right through him, her glance piercing. “Why are we still here? Why are we staying with them in the first place? Where's Al?” she asked, each question making him want to winch, “Why won't you tell me?”

 

Edward looked down and to the side, unable to answer. Now Winry knew something was wrong as she gripped both of his shoulders, shaking him till he looked back up at her. There was a flash of anger over his amber eyes, their gaze narrowing on her, but it was gone just as quickly when he looked down again. Ed frowned, shrugging her hands off of him, “Al's fine. He's with some friends. I miss him too . . . but he's fine. After the night at the ballet, the Colonel will let us move back to our old rooms and continue with our quest. I guess a break isn't such a bad thing . . .”

 

He didn't know if what he said was the truth or not. It sounded to him more like his wishful thinking, as if such a thing was possible with how he miserable he felt. Tentatively, he looked back up at Winry, feeling smaller than he was already as she loomed over him. “It still doesn't explain why any of this is happening,” she accused the alchemist, not bothering to sound anything else but pissed, “But I know you well enough never to expect a clear answer from you.”

 

She suddenly turned to march down the hallway only to have her wrist tugged backwards. “Damnit, Winry!” Ed yelled at her, “I told you already! The Colonel is just making sure everything is safe! Even I don't know what going on! How can you-?!”

 

“Because you never tell me anything before let alone involve me! Don't I have a right to be suspicious?!”

 

“No! Why can't you trust me this once?!”

 

His words ignited the mechanic anger even more as she flew at his face quite literally, staring at him point-blank, “I do trust you, you ass! I just don't trust what the State makes you do!”

 

In a moment of clarity, Edward's anger dissipated, leaving him momentarily speechless. Winry violently ripped his hand away from her wrist, rubbing it as she turned away.

 

“After the initial shock of your call wore off, I started thinking about why you invited me. You know what Granny always says, something too good to be true probably isn't. You, asking me out on a date, is indeed something too good to be true . . .” she confessed, looking down at the ground with a frown, “I know there's a reason you asked me to the ballet that isn't pure, because you'd never have that idea on your own.”

 

“How do you know what I would and wouldn't do for you?” he said, pouting at the mild insult. For a brief moment, a dim smile graced her lips at the look on his face only to be replaced with a diminished grin, “Because, Edward Elric, you don't have one romantic bone in your entire being.”

 

His mouth dropped open to deny that statement with as much vehement rants as he could muster. But, after thinking about it for a moment, she was probably right. It was hard not to pout again since he was so thoroughly caught, “Winry . . .”

 

She sighed, closing her eyes, “It's alright, Ed, just tell me one thing and I won't ask anymore. Whatever forced you to ask me to the ballet, I was first choice on a short list, right?”

 

Despite how plagued he felt at the moment, a heart-stopping smile bloomed on the face of the young alchemist, “You were the only choice.”

 

Winry's knees wavered when she looked into his amber eyes, certain that if her hand wasn't clasping the stair rail for life, she'd be a puddle at his feet. Maybe there a romantic bone somewhere in Edward Elric, a tiny one hidden under the heavy automail, bucket of alchemy nonsense, and a pint-sized temper with a short fuse. How could there not be if he smiled at her like that, making her forget why she was angry with him in the first place? A delicate blush spread over her cheeks, making her turn away in embarrassment, “Um, well then . . . that was a good answer . . .”

 

There was no hope of retaining her dignity in the face of her treacherous pale skin's reactions. She'd seen just about all of Ed that there was to see, and yet one smile still made blush. Trying not to groan, she moved down the hallway, hoping to escape him. And yet, to be so lucky was not to happen any time soon. The alchemist caught up to her, grabbing her hand again. This time, he pulled her back into his arms, turning the pink blush into a raging inferno of red. He ignored Winry's whimper, moving to face her while stumbling towards the wall. Hayate yipped at them, but he was ignored as well as Edward leaned towards her. She bit her lip, a nervous habit, watching the grin on his face widen. “Will you believe me this once? No matter what happens, I'll be with you,” he said, the back of his gloved fingers brushing up her slender neck to under her chin.

 

His lips hovered just out of reach of hers, yet close enough to make her toes curled in her black boots. He was getting so much better at being mature. The answer wrenched from the mechanic's throat whether she had doubts or not, “Yes . . .”

 

Edward was silently congratulating himself for a well-played smooth move, leaning in to kiss her and finish the job when a loud crash down the hall stopped him short. Winry took the opening to beat a hasty retreat towards the noise, the puppy running after her. “Damnit!” he cursed, knowing exactly who interrupted them while muttering under his breath, “I'm going to kill that flamer if it's the last thing I do!”

 

And yet, as the girl opened the door to the apartment, Ed found there was no need to murder Mustang since Riza was doing a good job of it already. The Lieutenant sat straddled on Colonel's hips, her hands ringing and shaking him by the neck while he sat motionless in the upended chair under him. Roy was nearly white, trying to fight the irate woman off as she shouted, “You bastard! `Mrs. Roy Mustang'!? Is this your idea of a sick joke! Do you have any idea how fast this'll spread through Headquarters!? Are you trying to ruin us?! You are the most arrogant, lazy, self-flattering, witless blunder of a man I have ever-!”

 

“Lieutenant?” Edward said while blinking at the pair, who had comically enough stopped cold. Winry gawked beside him, speechless. Seeing the older woman on the floor with the Colonel and about to beat the living hell out of him suddenly made the girl feel a whole lot better about her own lady-like behavior. A grin inched up her face, desperately trying to keep it down along with the words dancing madly in her throat. The wide-eyed, shocked looks on the adults' faces was too much to resist as the mechanic grabbed Ed by the elbow and tugged him away from the door, “Don't mind us. We'll just give you a few minutes to, um, finish.”

 

Riza turned bright red, suddenly remembering that she was wearing a skirt. Instead of strangling Roy, her hands yanked down on the fabric while quickly staggering to her feet. Huffing in indignation, she stomped towards her bedroom, slamming the door shut. Completely stunned, the Colonel laid motionless on the floor, wondering if he was saved or damned. He decided on the latter as soon as he heard the young alchemist's barely contained laughter. “I'm never going to live this down, am I?” he wondered out loud to no one in particular.

 

Ed turned to Winry, letting her lead him away down the hall, and whispered in her ear, “And I thought we had problems . . .”

 

**********

 

To Be Continued in Of Ballet and Bullets, Part 11, Dressed to Kill.