Playing Pretend (Royai, Mature)

It's been a long time since I posted on Livejournal, but I thought I would start posting my fanfiction again.

Summary: Roy and Riza are on a “date” in order to capture weapon smugglers. Lots of sexual tension, a dose of angst, some plot and humour.


Playing Pretend

“Fuery, keep us posted if you see our man,” Roy said. “You know the signal.”

The younger man nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Roy turned to Riza and held out his arm. “Ready for our date, Eliza?”

She took his arm. “Yes, Ron, I just can’t wait.”

Fuery opened the driver’s door and came around the car to let them out. He was wearing a peaked hat and a shabby suit.

Arm in arm, Roy and Riza walked the few metres up the street to the bar. To a neutral observer, they looked just like any young couple out on a date not a General and his Lieutenant looking to make a big arrest.

There were reports of illegal weapon smuggling in East City. Roy and his team were put on the case. There were suspicions of military personnel involvement and the team had been working the case for several weeks. With the help of the Christmas girls’ spy network, they had gotten some good intelligence culminating in news of a meeting in a bar in a run-down part of East City.

Roy opened the door and let Riza walk in front of him. He was supposed to be a gentleman after all, but that didn’t stop him admiring how her butt looked in that dress.

The interior of the bar was dingy and the lighting was dim. There was barely enough room to move between all the tables and stools. It was relatively quiet at the moment, but Roy could imagine the chaos on a busy night.

Roy leaned into Riza and whispered in her ear, “If this were a real date, I would have taken you somewhere fancier.”

“If this were a real date, Ron, we would be court-martialed.”

“Touche, Eliza.”

Roy scanned the bar for anybody that might recognise them. When he looked at Riza, she nodded. Both satisfied, they stepped further inside. They found a booth at the top of the bar, where they would have a good view of the comings and goings.

Roy went to get drinks, a whisky for him and a wine for her. When, he returned to their table, Riza was fidgeting with a beer mat.

He arched his eyebrow. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s something the Fuhrer said. I’m starting to wonder if the mole is in headquarters rather than just a low level office out east.”

Frowning, Roy leaned forward tracing his finger along his lower lip. “But all our intelligence leads us to East City not Central.”

“Maybe I’m wrong, but I think we need to be careful.”

Roy nodded. “Your intuition is usually spot on.”

The spots of pink on her cheek was the only sign that she appreciated his confidence in her.

Riza looked beautiful in her simple, but elegant, black dress and her hair down around her shoulders. She might deny it, but he could tell she enjoyed the chance to dress up even if it was part of a ruse. She didn’t get to do it very often.

His gaze drifted to her neck. There was still a faint scar on her neck from where she was cut on the Promised Day. It was always there, a reminder of her mortality and how he almost lost her.

He dipped his head.

Like Hughes. No, I can’t think about Hughes. I’ll drink to you later, dear friend.

“A cen for your thoughts.”

His head snapped up and he looked in Riza’s concerned eyes.

“You seem distracted,” she said.

“Just thinking about-” He reached across the table. Her lips parted a little as he traced his finger across her scar. “I’m almost surprised every time I see it.” She shivered under his touch. “It reminds me of that day.”

He pulled his hand away, already regretting his presumptuousness. He had no right to touch her intimately.

She reached for scarf to cover the scar..

He caught her hand. “No - I don’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. It’s a sign of how strong you are, that you survived. You don’t need to hide it.”

Before she could say a word, there was a loud ruckus outside.

“Come sit here beside me,” she said, “that way we can both watch the door.”

She moved in to allow him sit beside her.

“I can’t see very well.”

He wrapped his arm around her. “Move closer and we can both see.”

Their mark, Burke, entered with his entourage. Burke’s hair was cut skin tight, but he had a red beard and piercing blue eyes. His entourage was comprised of two big, muscled men and a tiny red-headed woman. The four passed them by and went straight to the bar.

“This is kind of nice,” he said.

“Don’t-”

“What’s the matter with playing pretend sometimes?” he whispered.

She slipped out from under his arm. “The harm is in forgetting that it’s pretend.”

“I know, but sometimes I want to forget. Dammit -” he balled his fists. “Sometimes, I just wish, I wish we could put aside our titles, our history and our sins. I know I’ve too much blood on my hands, but I’m just a man after all.”

He looked at her, but she said nothing. He wished she would speak, let him in. He wanted to know what she was thinking. Every time he bared his soul, she remained silent. It was those silences he hated more than any others even those when she was pissed off at him. At least then he knew she cared.

“Don’t look at me like that! It’s distracting.”

“You’re distracting.”

She sighed. “How much have you drunk? We’re supposed to be on a mission.”

“They’re on their way to a table.” Roy tilted his head towards the group as they passed them by. “And I’ll have you know, I’m perfectly sober..”

She arched an eyebrow.

“I always get maudlin around Hughes’ anniversary.”

She slapped her forehead. “Oh Roy, I should have remembered. Why did you agree to mission today of all days?”

“I needed a distraction,” he replied.

Her eyes were concerned.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m fine. I want to concentrate on the matter at hand.”

She lifted her glass and took a sip. “Well - I guess once this goes down, hopefully the way we want, we will be able to have a proper drink to lost friends.”

Collapse )

Betrayal (Chapter 32)

Betrayal: Chapter 32

Rating: Mature

Summary:

Some information comes to light about Drusilla's past and Buffy gets an unexpected present. Plot I promise.
Notes:

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own words and plot and some OCs.

An update?? Did you think it would ever happen?

I'm so very sorry!!!!!

To all the wonderful people who have suffered through this fic with me, you'll never know how grateful I am. I had some fierce writers block on this. I have an endgame, I promise.

To anyone who is just reading this now, I'm sorry for my bad writing. I like to think I have improved immensely in the course of this story.

Collapse )

Caution Children (Chapter 15)

I can't believe I forgot to updat this here. Yes - this long standing wip has been updated. It's an early Christmas miracle.

Dislaimer: As usual, I own nothing except my own plot.

Beware the jumble of the Season 5 time line in this fic!!

Summary: Buffy and Spike might no longer be kids, but things are far from easy. They still have Glory to beat and they are still reconcile their conflicting feelings.

Collapse )

A Moment of Madness (Havolina drabble)

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise. Arakawa is the queen.

Written for runningalchemist on tumblr

A Moment of Madness

The room was warm, uncomfortably so. Jean Havoc waved a book in front of his face in a vain attempt to mimic a breeze.
“You could make yourself useful.”
Jean rolled his eyes, “I don’t see the point in trying to open the damn door. I tried for a half hour already.”
“But it’s so hot!”
Jean had to agree, his shirt was sticking to his skin and he was always afraid to lift his arms in case he would knock them both out with the stench.
“Look, we radioed the Colonel and he said they would be back around again in hour, so we just need to sit tight.”
“Fuck that!” Catalina started to bang on the door. “Can anyone hear us? We’re locked in!”
Havoc sat on the floor with his back against the wall on the other side of the room. Catalina’s back was to him and he noticed that she had disgarded her jacket and her white shirt was clinging to her back. Oh god, he could make out her bra. He licked his lips. Maybe if he made her turn around again, he could see if..
“Catalina!”
She turned around, ‘What?”
He didn’t remember doing it, but suddenly he was standing in front of her, taking her hands into his and pushed her against the wall.
‘What are you..”
The end of her question was lost when Jean covered her mouth with his. Surprisingly, she did not resist and kissed him back. He deepened the kiss and let go of her hands, so that he could touch her, his right hand went to her hair and his left hand to her waist. Her hands now free went to his shoulders and pulled him closer to her. There was a loud bang as Jean’s radio dropped to the floor and the two pulled apart. Starring at one another, they both took another step backward. Catalina realising she was against the wall again moved forward a little.
“Uh.” Jean scratched his neck, feeling his face redden a little.
Catalina was frowning, her hand over her mouth. “Have you lost your damn mind?”
“Yes!” Jean couldn’t help himself and closed the distance between them before he took her face into his hands and kissed her again, harder this time and more insistent.
His heart began to race again. He could happily spend the time waiting to be rescued kissing those lips. Her lips were softer than he imagined, and she was making these delightful little sighs into his mouth. His hands were on the small of her back and he couldn’t get enough of her. He felt her hands on his shirt. God, she was going to take him here and now, she was incredible. Instead there was a pop as she pulled away from him using her hands on his chest as leverage. Her lips were still apart, swollen from when he had pulled and bit on them with his teeth.
Her eyes narrowed suddenly, “What are you doing?”
How could he have forgotten who he was kissing?
He sighed. “Don’t you mean what are we doing?”
Her lips pursed together and she took another step backward, “You were the one that kissed me, asshole.”
“Why did you kiss me back then?”
“You surprised me, that’s all!”
“Twice!”
Catalina threw her hands up, “You’re impossible. Of course, I’d end up stuck in here with you!” She took a deep breath and crossed her arms across her chest. ”You’re an even bigger pervert than Mustang. At least, he knows how to pretend to be a gentleman.”
Havoc made a scoffing noise.
“Hey. What?”
“Like you’d even know a what a gentleman is. You’re not exactly a lady.”
Her look was murderous, if looks could kill he would be dead and buried only to be brought back to be killed again.
“I hate you! Stay away from me and keep those lips to yourself.”
“I’d be happy to.”
The pair lapsed into silence again. Feeling pissed, hot and uncomfortable was not making this situation any better. Well he could remedy at least one of those. He started to unbutton his shirt, he had disregarded his jacket a long time ago.
“What..what are you doing?”
“What does it look like?”
He avoided her disapproving gaze and continued taking off his sweaty shirt. Ah, that was better!
“Havoc, you won’t tell anyone about today, will you?”
“No!” Like he would brag about kissing that harpy.
“Good then, and if I was kiss you now you still wouldn’t tell anyone?”
Jean looked up at that, Catalina was heading towards him and he just shook his head. “Anyone ever tell you that you play dirty?”

Fin

Road trip by waddiwasiwitch

Summary: What do you get when you put an injured cranky Mustang, an angry former Fullmetal Alchemist in a car? Well you get this pure silliness…

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise.

This was written for the fma_fic_contest community on Livejournal, but I felt it needed a little more than 500 words. So this is a slighly extended version. Check out all the lovely fics there every week guys.

Road trip

The two men emerged from the building. The dark haired man leaned heavily on the younger blond, who didn’t look too much better. Roy couldn’t help but think it was a good job Edward was a little taller these days. They stumbled in unison; Edward holding his left side and limping with his non metal leg while Roy’s head throbbed , blood caking his black hair and his chest hurt with each breath. The General had a sneaking suspicion that he had broken a few ribs, never mind his sprained ankle.
“How the hell did I let you convince me that this was a good idea?” Edward groused. 
‘It was a good idea if you didn’t behave like a common brute. You were supposed to show them an example of how being a state alchemist could be a good thing.”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s not like I’m even an alchemist anymore.” Edward turned his head to give Roy his best glare, “Besides, I’m not the one who set him on fire!”
“That was after he tried to kill us.”
The car was in sight at last. Actually, he could see two of them. Shit, he couldn’t drive like this.
Roy groaned. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you’re going to have to drive, Fullmetal.”
“Hey, don’t call me Fullmetal!”
Roy’s head reverberated with the sound. Putting his hand to his head, he gritted his teeth with the pain. 
Ed came to an abrupt stop and Roy almost fell over. “What? Did you just say..”
“Yes – now just take the keys before set you on fire.” The threat was empty one and even if he did there was only a 50-50 chance he would hit the pain in the ass.
Roy felt the hard surface of the car and leaned against the bonnet, reached into his pocket, pulled the keys and tossed them.
The keys fell to the ground. 
“Dammit Mustang, your aim is really off.” Edward bent down to pick up the keys. “Am I really doing this? I can’t drive!”
“Well, I can’t drive not like this. I am seeing two of you right now. We need to get out of here before they come to. Neither of us are in a position to take them on.”
Ed’s eyes went wide like saucers, “Shit, but I could kill us.”
“I’d rather take my chances with you driving,” Roy said. “Besides if we die here, I’m sure Hawkeye and Miss Rockbell will find some way to get to the Gate so they can bring us back to murder us themselves.”
Edward gulped at the thought and walked around to the driver’s side of the car.
A half an hour later…
Roy was thankful that they were driving through deserted roads and they had not yet any vehicles. He didn’t really fancy their chances otherwise. 
“Slow down!” Roy was fed up of barking the same order. Even though, Edward was older, he was no better at doing what he was told.
“I can’t!”
Roy winced as the car veered across the road before Edward managed to correct it.
“This is awesome, I’m really doing this.”
Roy could feel his food rising up in his throat. A little town was in sight up ahead. Please don’t let it be a mirage, he prayed to whatever greater power there was.
“Just stop here, Fullmetal. We can walk to the village and rest up until I’m fit to drive again.”
“But I’m just getting the hang of it,” Edward protested but he put his foot on the brake as asked all the same..
The car screeched to a halt. 
Edward turned to look at a slightly green looking Roy. “Not bad for a first time, huh?”
Roy opened his eyes, his head was still spinning. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m lucky I didn’t vomit.”
“That’s just the concussion talking, General Bastard.”


The end

my entry for prompt 313 fma_fic_contest -The Fall



Disclaimer: I don’t own this as well you know. Arakawa is the Queen

Warnings/Triggers: Suicidal thoughts

Words: circa 800

Notes: I’m really sorry - this is very depressing. Written for prompt 313 (Nursery rhymes) on fma fic contest community on livejournal.


The Fall



“Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall….”

Roy Mustang had achieved his life’s dream, but it was at a cost that he had wanted to avoid.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Returning to Ishval was meant to bring peace; he was supposed to make amends for his sins. Instead he was here again as bearing arms against his fellow countrymen. Again, the Flame was causing devastation, though this time he refused to use his alchemy unless absolutely necessary…

“Humpty Dumpty had a great fall…”

The kid appears out of nowhere, his red eyes full of hate. “Amestrians!”

Who did I kill belonging to you?

The boy lines up the gun and Roy knows the bullets in the barrel are for him. He doesn’t move. So, this is it, he thinks. Suddenly he is pushed aside and he sees a tendril of blond hair. Riza stands in front of him – using her body as a shield.

“You don’t want to do this,” she calls out to the boy. Her voice is level and calm.

Roy knows, she feels reluctant to have any other blood on her hands. Still, her gun is pointed at the boy. Unlike the boy, Roy is also aware that she emptied the barrel earlier in the last gun fight and the rest of the team are conspicuous in their absence.

His gloves are on his hands before he knows it. He can read the indecision in the boy’s face and he hopes the kid will turn and run. He hopes they can let him..

Suddenly, he hears the click of the gun and this time it’s Riza in the crosshairs.

And he snaps…

“All the King’s horses and all the King’s men…”

When he snapped, it was in more ways then one. His fingers shake, his shoulders tremble and he cries. Tears fall down his face, the salt water flows into his mouth. Riza puts her hand on his shoulder.

“No, no, don’t touch me.” He lowers himself to the ground. “No, I didn’t want to be that monster again.”

“Listen, Roy, you saved me. You did it to save me.”

He shakes his head, the smell of the charred flesh is still in his nostrils and he can’t understand how she can bear to be near him.

“I’m a monster.”

He hears the sound of approaching footsteps, but he can’t look up.

“Boss?”

“Jean, leave him be.” Riza’s voice is resigned and sad.

“Couldn’t put Humpty together again.”

The team watch him closely, and for once he does not have the strength to put on a mask for them. The fire is low, they can’t risk attracting more rebels. The only thing that he is glad for is that he only has his team with him.

Breda is supposed to be on watch, but Roy notices the man’s eyes are closed and the soft rise and fall of his chest. Sleeping on the job. Any other time, he would have chewed him out for being so careless. Roy looks around the camp carefully to make sure everyone is sleeping. Satisfied, he sees the gun lying next to Havoc’s rucksack.

He takes his chance and he crawls over, careful to make as little noise as possible. He pulls the gun out and checks the barrel to make sure it is loaded. He takes a deep breath and puts it to his temple.

What will you do when I’m gone? He had asked her that once and the response had pulled him out of a murderous rage and it was enough to give him pause.

Would she still see things the same way?

How many more times would she follow him into hell?

He lets his hand drop and he turns the safety back on replacing the gun, where he had found it. He turns around and sees Riza standing there.

“How long have you been there?” he whispers.

“Long enough.” Her voice is cool but her eyes are kind.

“I’m sorry.” He drops to his knees before her.

He’s not just apologising to her, but to her father and to the countless victims of flame alchemy. She joins him on the ground and wraps her arms around him. At first, he wants to bolt, but he doesn’t have the strength. He tries to hold back the sobs threatening to overwhelm him. She doesn’t say “okay”, because she knows it will never be okay. He’s so grateful for her quiet strength and understanding. When he can’t hold back his emotions any longer, he embraces her too and holds her as tight as he can.

In the end, only he can put himself back together again. But he wants to try and that’s something.



fin

Lost Souls

A belated Happy Birthday comlodge.

I want to dedicate this fic to you but there is character death so I'll settle for just wishing you happy birthday.

Characters: Spike, Dawn, Angel
Title: Lost Souls

Lost Souls
The earth was starting to crumble around them, but the souled vampire and the slayer only had eyes for one another. They dimly heard Faith called Buffy’s name.
Collapse )