Legal Issue Pt 1 (FullMetal Alchemist, Roy/Riza #14 “Radio-Cassette Player”)
Title: Legal Issue
Author: Icy
Pairing: Roy/Riza
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own FullMeal Alchemist or the characters. This fanfic is written for non-profit only.
Note to Mods: I had to split this up because it was too long to fit into one post. Sorry about the multiple posts.
Author’s Note: YES, that DOES say NC-17. Some of the language and content is a little bit more adult than the fics I usually write. Please read at your own discretion.
EXTREMELY AU. Takes place in our world as well. Came out as a mix between CSI:Miami dramatics and Legally Blonde law. This idea just came to me out of nowhere and I was INSPIRED. Might be the longest standalone, chapterless fic I have ever written-sorry about the length. I hope you enjoy it! I tried to include as many familiar names and faces as I could. :)
I apologize for the length! This piece is over 45 pages in Word. Between this and the end of the semester (and everything that comes with THAT-moving out of dorms, into a summer apartment, etc etc) I have been so strained for time! I don’t think my other pairing will be getting a huge fic like this one ;) But I will share the love next month I guess! ;D
In addition, there are probably many typos. I tried to catch as many of them as I could but I apologize in advance nonetheless.
List OF Kisses
(
Riza’s mouth formed a hard line as she looked down at the paper on her desk. The parchment-colored envelope was a stark contrast to the charcoally ones she usually got. She knew exactly what it meant, too. Just like her regular envelopes, it was an alert for a new case. But this one wasn’t from within Headquarters, assigning her to work on a case.
No, this was a court summons, the kind of envelope they sent to witnesses and victims. When they were needed for a preliminary hearing. When they needed to GET a lawyer.
Riza was not a victim.
As if her scowl was gravitational, heads turned slowly her way, colleagues from her branch-Defense Attorneys Falman and Breda were the first to notice. Falman gave a low whistle as his eyes widened in surprise, but before he could speak, their supervisor’s voice interrupted them.
“What are you guys rubbernecking over? Recreation stays outside the office; you all know that.” Sharp footsteps announced his arrival; Riza purposely kept her eyes trained on the pale tan envelope with her name scrawled across in precise, blocky letters. It was starting to blend into her desk, everything was starting to go blurry. “What’s.. What is this? Riza? What is the meaning of this!” She felt a hand clamp around her arm and she was jarred back, away from that dizzying precipice. “Don’t faint,” the voice growled, and she looked up into the dark, indiscernible eyes of Roy Mustang, her … well, he wasn’t exactly her boss, but he also wasn’t her co-worker. She worked under him, in a manner. Heirarchy in law offices was often glossed over.
She flinched as he reached out and snatched the letter off the table. “Keep working,” he said carelessly to Havoc, Breda, Falman, and Feury-the only ones in their office right now-and began dragging her in the direction of the doorframe. Mid-stumble her legs began working again, and she followed him wordlessly.
After the door closed behind her, Roy released her arm and turned around, eyes furious. “What is this about?” His voice was dangerously quiet, and she knew that he was trying not to show his anger. She licked her lips, stunned by the realization that she would have assumed she’d be angry too.
“I… don’t know,” she answered honestly, unable to hold his gaze and instead looking at the guilty envelope again.
“Well, maybe you’d better find out,” he snarled in reply, thrusting it at her. Stunned, she took it and turned it over as he continued. “We’ve been the office with the cleanest record ever at this firm. You’ve had a record that was beyond spotless, which is why you hold almost as much authority in this office as I do; because you have been promoted based on your merit…” She tuned him out as she slid a finger under the corner of the envelope, jerked, and the top tore away easily. He stopped talking at that noise, and turned back around, staring at her and the letter intensely. “Well?”
Riza was proud of the fact that her hands did not shake as she pulled the letter out. But as she read, first disbelief and then anger flooded her. She felt her face growing hot but Roy waited until she had read through all three sheets before prompting her again. “Well?”
Riza sighed, looked back up at him. “It’s not legitimate.”
Roy scowled. “You need to own up-“
“That’s not what I meant,” she said quickly, voice shaking in her anger. “I have to go to court and I might be charged. I mean that I didn’t do anything outside the law-who wouldn’t know the law better than a practitioner-and I’m being charged on the basis of…” She floundered helplessly, too angry to form the correct words.
His expression softened slightly, but she identified the suspicion and anger still there. “What exactly happened?”
Riza sighed. She’d been hoping to avoid this, but it was obviously inevitable. “Well, a few weeks ago I was practicing at the range-“
“Your father’s?” Roy interrupted? Riza nodded.
“I brought one of the handguns with me when I left. Don’t give me that look; I have a permit for it. Even if I didn’t, I have partial ownership of the gun, and the Second Amendment will protect me in that case. Anyway, I was walking home when a car pulled over, and they told me to get in… look, to make a long story short, I was pursued by a man whose intentions can’t have been pure, and when I took refuge in a bar, I apparently interfered with some brawl that was taking place, and when I…” She looked up at him and shrugged. “I shot one of them.”
Roy took a step back and sighed, drawing his hands across his eyes. Riza waited. She knew he couldn’t criticize her for use of the firearm when her life had been in danger. Then, “Did you kill your victim? You should have reported to the authorities immediately.”
“Of course I didn’t kill him,” Riza said in a tone of disgust. “Merely incapacitated him.”
Roy paused. “What about the men in the car?”
Riza shrugged. “Didn’t bother me again. When I came out of the bar they weren’t nearby. I must have lost them, and…” She shrugged again. “I don’t even know who any of them were. I could remember their faces, maybe, if I saw any of them again, but…”
Roy exhaled slowly. “So this letter of summons…”
“Is from the case of a Mister Selim Bradley, who is apparently the man whom I shot,” Riza finished with a shrug. She was struggling to control her anger, and it seemed to be working. Control it, and you could use it as motivation. Let it control you, and you were destined to fail from losing your head to your emotions. Or so she thought; and so she’d seen, countless times, in the cases of criminals who always made one lethal mistake. As a lawyer, she was privy to a number of these revelations, and had learned to translate them into her own life.
She was startled to find Roy staring intently at her when she looked up again from the letter. “What?”
Roy frowned, and shrugged. “We’d better get back to work.” A pause. “When is this hearing scheduled for?”
She bit her lip, looking back at the letter. “Five days.”
Roy’s eyes narrowed. “That’s a load of bullshit. They should know that they have to give all defendants at least a week’s notice-“
“Maybe I’m not the defendant,” she said quietly, looking back at the letter. “Just a witness…”
“Who’s the defendant than?” Roy scowled. “There’s nobody else who could be implicated.”
Riza hesitated. “I don’t know. I’ll talk to the attorney overseeing this case.”
Roy stiffly opened the door back to their office. “Don’t say anything that might-“
Riza smiled. “I know. I’m a lawyer too, remember?” She passed under his arm and re-entered the office, forcibly controlling the slight worry that remained.
“Oh, no. You’re the defendant, of course.” The stern woman frowned over her fashionable spectacles at Riza.
“But, Olivier-“
“I don’t understand what the problem is. I’m disappointed in you. Hawkeye. You aught to act more professionally.” The much larger, much blonder woman raised her eyebrows. “As things stand, you’re already in danger of suspension.”
“Suspension?” Riza blanched. “But I didn’t-“
“This is a matter of the court. We’ll expect to see you at nine-thirty sharp. Look your best.”
Riza exhaled in defeat. If she was a defendant…
“Oh, and Hawkeye. You won’t be needing to come in to work until this case is done.”
Riza took a deep breath, exhaled, and nodded. Paid leave was better than a suspension, at least.
At least, that’s what she tried to tell herself as she wandered aimlessly through the back alleys of Central City, dejectedly not caring where she was going. She had five days to prepare her case. Accused of premeditated assault, she thought in numb amazement. If she couldn’t get the judge’s favor early enough in the hearing, then it’d advance to a trial, and then her spotless record….
She shook her head to clear it of the negative energy keeping her in tumult. She was surprised to hear a voice call her name, though, and as she looked up and noticed a few dingy stalls lining the alley here and there, she realized that she’d wandered into the Market district. With a thrill she remembered that she’d been chased by that man-or those men, she wasn’t sure how many of them there had been-only a few streets over. Slowly she turned, frame tense as her hand automatically went to her concealed pistol.
Roy was hurrying up the alley, waving a hand. “Riza! What are you doing here?”
Relief flooded her and she even managed a small smile. “Just wandering.”
Roy frowned. “Shouldn’t you be getting home?”
Riza sighed. “No, Olivier told me that we made a mistake and I’m the defendant after all… I can’t come in to work for five more days…”
Roy frowned some more. “Really?”
Riza shrugged. “I guess it’ll give me some time to think, put together a case…”
Roy raised his eyebrows. “Surely you’re not thinking of representing yourself?”
Anger flared at that comment, subdued if only because she knew Roy well enough to know that he wasn’t insulting her talents. Roy flinched at her expression and as she opened her mouth, hastily continued.
“I know you’ve won a majority of your cases, but it’s much different when you’re not only personally invested in the case, but when the case is such high stakes for yourself…”
Riza forced herself to calm down, knowing she was just jumpy because this whole business had her on edge. Forcefully she exhaled, willing herself to calm. After a long moment of silence, her brain began to calculate once more. “Who could I find to represent me this close to the case, though? And who would be willing to, once they gain a more complete knowledge of my career?”
Roy chewed on his lip for a moment before nodding slightly. “I’ll do it.”
Riza opened her mouth, and then closed it, thinking hard. “You can’t do it. Of all the people who have a personal investment in the case…”
Roy waved his hand casually. “Nonsense. I’ve represented much more difficult clients before.”
Riza shook her head. “You would want me to win not only because I work for you and you would want my record to remain clear, but we’ve always been on good terms…”
Roy frowned. “If you’re suggesting personal involvement in this case…” He looked at her. “Is there any reason why you’d object?”
She sighed and shook her head. “No. You’re right… I will have a harder time finding anybody this late…”
Roy began a walk toward the main market; Riza fell into step alongside him. “So I have five days to make a case? I’ll need you to be candid with me.”
Riza suppressed the feeling that she was being babied. “Yes, I know. I will.” She looked up in time to catch the twitch at the edge of his mouth that she knew meant he was trying not to smile. She wondered for a moment, before pressing on. “But you surely don’t think you can be so compelling during the hearing that they won’t make a move to take it to trial?”
Roy shrugged carelessly. “If it goes to trial, then it goes to trial.” He paused. “It would be highly beneficial to cut it off before that stage, but unfortunately you know just as well as I do what the chances of that will be. I’ll try my best, of course, but I’m not worried if it does go to trial. Our firm has the best record, and I know that I can win if they’re looking for a long, drawn-out battle.”
Riza sighed and pressed her knuckles into her forehead. “I don’t want a long, drawn-out battle. I want this issue to be dealt with and behind us.”
Roy stopped and turned around; she felt herself grow stiff and had to resist the urge to step back into a defensive stance. “Riza, I wish that we didn’t have a case on our hands at all. But this man clearly wants to implicate you, and there’s nothing we can do legally about that. I need you to understand that I won’t let anything happen to you.” His dark eyes bored into hers; she tried to control her heartbeat, knowing that her pulse would be fluttering wildly in her neck, that he’d be able to see it. He held her gaze for only a moment more before turning around and striding crisply forward, finally out of the back alleys and into the mayhem that was the farmer’s market. It took Riza a moment to unfreeze herself, and she hurried after him, blinking at the bright sunlight after the dark alleys.
I didn’t premeditate anything. It was self-defense, she argued with herself, wondering how anybody for Christ’s sake could think that she’d seek a man out and shoot him. But that was Roy’s job now. Some strange feeling somewhere between irritation and disconcertion bubbled up in her stomach as she looked once more at his back (he was walking purposefully, and had a slight lead on her). He wasn’t going to let anything happen to her? She was just some helpless schoolgirl now, was that it? She paused in surprise as he came to an abrupt halt, and moved more calmly to his side. He was at a confections cart; she shot him a puzzled look, sideways, and he smiled back reassuringly. “Two of those, please,” he pointed to the menu taped to the counter. Riza frowned and looked closely at the cart, but it looked clean enough. Still, she memorized her location just in case she did get food poisoning later. She wasn’t always sure that she trusted farmer’s marker food beyond the fresh produce they offered.
Roy turned away and handed her a large scone identical to the one he kept for himself. She raised her eyebrows but took a bite of the pastry anyway. The sweet glaze melted in her mouth as the aroma of cinnamon and cloves reached her nose. Roy stopped at a bench and Riza willingly joined him.
“Then here’s what we’ll do,” he proposed in a diplomatic tone of voice. “We’ll enjoy our scones and spend some time walking through the rest of the district. You won’t check your watch until I drop you off at your house. You will enjoy the afternoon and your company.” A mischievous twinkle shone in his eyes as he looked at her.
Riza would have protested, but the scone tasted too good. Instead she simply nodded. But what will I do all week, she thought silently.
As if he read her mind, Roy continued. “Tomorrow you will stay home and sleep in, and then you will spend the day finishing the scrapbooking project you didn’t have time to finish last month.” He paused to take another bite of his scone before continuing. Riza watched him in silence. “On Friday, you will wake up no earlier than nine thirty, and will drive to the Pure Botanicals spa, where you will have a day-long appointment. You will relax and enjoy yourself. You will be home by six, and you will spend the evening at home alone. Saturday you will stay home and prepare a written statement, to the best of your memory, of the incident that is being called into question in court. Saturday at seven o’clock sharp, a handsome gentleman will arrive at your doorstep and beg your company for the evening. You will happen to have dressed for an evening out, so you will decide to join him.” As she opened her mouth to protest, he held up a hand. “You will bring your written statement, and you will assist the gentleman in preparing a case for you. Sunday you are free to spend how you please, though you are required to stay home. And Monday, at eight forty-five, your escort will arrive at your residence to bring you safely to court.” Finished, he looked hungry again, and so continued to eat his scone serenely while Riza watched him openmouthed, feeling quite overwhelmed.
He finished his scone and crumpled the wrapper before looking at her. “Are you done?” Mutely she hitched her jaw back up and handed him her wrapper. He rose and walked to the nearest garbage can, disposed of the wrappers, and returned to Riza. “Look, I don’t want you to stress out about this at all,” he said calmly, raising an eyebrow at her expression of suspicion.
“A spa?”
He shrugged. “How long has it been since you’ve had a day of pampering to yourself?” From her thoughtful expression, he knew he was right. “Listen. I’m going to do my bets to prevent this thing from going to trial. You are, of course, pleading innocent to premeditated assault, and that is going to make this much more complicated. I don’t think you should settle, and I know you never would agree to, anyway. So just-let me take care of the hard part, this week, and… as long as you don’t have to come in to work… use your time to enjoy yourself.” He paused. “Don’t stress out about this too much. An angry plaintiff can’t match our teamwork.”
Riza knew that he was right, of course. Grudgingly so. She knew that she should, would, take his advice. She knew that she’d be resisting the impulse to work on the case herself, or at least worry about it, the whole time. But a day at the spa did sound nice, she had to admit. And she had been trying to find time to finish that scrapbooking project…
Roy saw her resistance fading, and internally sighed in relief. He’d needed to convince her to either stay home or go someplace safe-and the spa, or in his company, would be more than secure. Something was fishy about this case, and he didn’t want her safety jeopardized at all. He didn’t doubt her ability to defend herself, but everybody made mistakes. The thought of the man in the car who had pursued her made his skin crawl with a moment of possessiveness that surprised him. Startled, he looked at Riza again, to find her blinking back innocently. “Yes?”
“Nothing,” he replied lightly, recovering quickly. “Just thinking that I would love to take a long, leisurely stroll through the district to de-stress a little bit, myself. If you know anybody who is interested in keeping me company…”
Riza could not stop a small smile from tugging at her lips. “I might know a young woman,” she replied casually, standing as he did and falling into step beside him once more.
Riza knew that she should feel more upset, irritated, and overwhelmed than she did. But all she could focus on as she fumbled for her keys was Roy’s close presence, just behind her. After determining her course of action for the next week-and that meant that he had made an appointment at the spa for her-he had spent the afternoon with her, in innocently amusing social events at the Farmer’s Market. The feelings of irritation that she attempted to summon forth, trying to find herself upset that he thought she could not handle a week’s paid leave from the firm well enough, would not come. This was probably because she knew, as he must, that she wouldn’t be doing anything but worrying and worse. In fact, she would have spent this afternoon-the news still so fresh in her mind-in much worse ways than she had. She’d always been on good terms with Mustang but she had suddenly grown a new, more personal facet on the globe of respect that trembled delicately between then. They both knew that he was toeing the line of professional friendliness with all that he had done so far, but Riza found that she didn’t care. She didn’t even feel too upset about the entire case anymore-though she knew that logically she should be feeling furious and terrified at once. Roy’s assertive presence had calmed her, and she would even go so far as to say that she suddenly felt safer knowing that he’d be taking care of the hardest parts of this case.
“Thanks,” she said awkwardly as the door unlocked and swung open.
He offered her a chivalrous bow. “But of course, Ms. Hawkeye.”
She hesitated, one foot in the door. “I guess I’ll see you Saturday then…”
His eye sparkled at that reminder, but all he said was, “Keep your cell with you. I’ll check in.” Then he was gone, walking back to his practical black car, offering her a last wave as he climbed in, and then driving out of sight. She exhaled and entered her small house, locking the door behind her, turning on a few lights.
She felt a natural smile tug at her lips at the loud bark and the clatter of her companion’s paws on the floor. As the black dog hurried to greet her, tongue lolling out, she bent to scratch behind his ears. “I hope you didn’t get too bored, Black Hayate,” she said matter-of-factly. The dog cocked his head, watching her intently. “I would have been home earlier, but I was with Roy Mustang. He’s the nice one who took you to the park last month.” Black Hayate’s eyes gleamed intelligently, and he laid his head on her knees. After a moment, she sniffed, and fished in her pocket for a treat. The dog barked enthusiastically as he caught sight of it.
“Sit,” she commanded. Obediently his rump plopped on the floor.
“Roll over.” He was getting much better at his training. When he complied, she allowed him to eat the treat, smiling vaguely. It was silly to think that he could understand much that didn’t involve treats.
Riza had convinced herself that she wouldn’t be able to sleep in because she was so used to living such a precise schedule, but she surprised herself when she woke up and glanced over at the bedside table. “Ten thirty!” That made her sit up. For a moment, she continued staring at the clock. Surely she should get up and… she paused, looked at her Blackberry on the nightstand, and saw that she had a text message waiting. Curiously, she opened it.
Good morning, sleeping beauty! Let me know how that scrapbook project goes.
Riza smiled despite herself, staring at Roy’s name for longer than was appropriate. After a few minutes she exhaled and left her bed, mind calm once more.
The hot water of her shower both relaxed her and woke her more surely than the alarm she had not set. It was nice to luxuriate in a shower that was longer than usual by her standards, giving up her mind to a pleasant blankness while standing under the spray. By the time she emerged from the bathroom ensconced in a towel and a cloud of steam, she was able to distinctly identify hunger moving to the forefront of her emotions, so she dressed quickly in casual clothes which she hadn’t worn on a weekday for quite a long time, and then headed for the kitchen, greeting Black Hayate on the way as he emerged from the doggy-door.
With eggs, a link of sausage, and an English muffin balanced delicately on her plate, Riza retired to the den, where her scrapbooking mess was laid out. Her father had called her desire to preserve these memories silly, but Riza enjoyed making the scrapbooks for the way that the mechanical actions did not require a tremendous amount of thought. She enjoyed looking over the memories as well. Nothing gave her quite the same feeling as looking over her archive of completed scrapbooks. Her father, who had passed on long ago, still lived in these books. The mother she’d never known was nothing more than a blurry image on the first page of her first “Family” scrapbook, but she was glad that even that was preserved for future generations.
As she ate her breakfast, she began work on the half-finished scrapbook sitting out. She thought that maybe she wouldn’t finish the scrapbook entirely, but if she finished the latest roll of film she’d be satisfied.
Despite herself she dawdled, turning through the already-completed pages and then staring with thoughtful consideration at the remaining photographs. Bowling night from the group from work, though it had been over two months ago. Stopping only to clear and wash her dishes, Riza began her process of framing the photograph on the scrapbook’s matting, and picking out the accents she’d be using. Progress was slow, but as each page fell into place, and as she finished tacking on the last of the accents and labels and sliding the page back into its protective cover sleeve, a growing sense of satisfaction welled up in her chest. Thoughts of the upcoming court case were far from her mind as she enjoyed the time Roy had given her to… well, enjoy some downtime. She didn’t realize how much time was passing until her phone buzzed quietly, and she saw that it was almost one o’clock. Hastily she read the note from Roy, asking about how she was doing, and she typed out a reply quickly.
Hi. The scrapbook is going well. You will have to be the first one to look at it once I finish.
After pressing Send, Riza considered for a moment whether or not she was hungry, while knowing that she should eat food anyway.
As she entered the kitchen, Hayate hurried alongside her. It was nice, she reflected, to have a peaceful day of quiet. She finished her scrapbook that evening, much to her surprise, before turning in for the night.
The rest of the day passed in quiet restfulness and concentration, and Riza found that she has lost much of her anxiety when she thought of the Hearing. The weekend came in a much more pleasant manner than she had expected, with a restful day at the spa and another quiet afternoon. Saturday morning passed with little exuberance, and it was not until after lunch that she sat down to write her statement.
An attempt to center her scattered thoughts failed. She realized with some clarity that she had been lucky enough to escape her encounter unscathed, but she seriously doubted that a court case was their preferred method of revenge. But revenge… for interrupting a brawl? Wasn’t this getting a little unreasonable? Why hadn’t the bartender been interfering in the first place?
She pushed the matter aside as a point of incidence, and forced herself to concentrate. She was so focused on remembering the details, of leaving the range, of taking refuge in the bar, of the emotions she’d felt when they had advanced on her, of the sweet recoil of the handgun making her soul sing, that she was alarmed to see that it was already half-past five by the time she felt like she had completed a full, thorough statement. You will happen to have dressed for an evening out, fled through her mind as she stared at the clock for another long moment. Then, deciding she would take a shower to freshen up and ignoring the voice telling her that she knew she only wanted to take a shower to keep her mind off of Roy, she left her room abruptly, determined to drown that little voice in the shower.
An evening out? If he wanted an evening out… A half hour later, she re-entered her room, wrapped in a towel, and with her hair bundled up in a towel to absorb the excess moisture. An evening out… what was the kind of evening he had planned? “An evening out” was quite vague. How should she dress? After long consideration, she decided that if Roy had wanted her to dress for a date, he would have just asked her out. But still… how casual did he expect her to dress? Where would they be going, anyway? She thought of texting him, but decided against it almost as quickly as the possibility had occurred to him. She didn’t want him to know how much thought she was putting into this.
As seven o’clock approached, Riza took one last glance in the mirror to make sure she had not missed any details. A white blouse under a dark blazer, a skirt with dark hose, and a pair of attractive heels. She’d coiffed her hair and held it back with a large barrette, which was the most ornate of all of her pieces. She was just turning off the last of the lights in the house when the knock on the door, familiar even in the way the weight fell on the wood, alerted her that he was there. She snatched her purse on her way to the door, and opened it cautiously.
She expected Roy, but not in the dark outfit she realized set off a gleaming fire in his eyes. She struggled to maintain eye contact, wanting to look more than just that one cursory glance, but found it easier as he smiled. “Well then. Shall we?”
Riza locked her door and followed him to his car, where he opened the door for her before going around the car. As soon as the door was shut and her seatbelt buckled, she found herself staring at him. This whole situation was all far too surreal, first of all; second of all… it wasn’t fair for him to look to good in a simple t-shirt, bomber, and slacks. To stop herself from ogling him as he started the car, she licked her lips and said, “So… where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see.” He looked over at her. “You have prepared a statement?”
“I have it in my purse,” Riza replied.
“Good. Just enjoy the ride, then.” He offered her a smile and, with his free hand, turned the stereo on. Riza was surprised to find that she did not mind the mellow sounds of jazz drifting from the speakers to her ears.
They were both quiet the entire ride there, and while Riza occasionally glanced over, she did not notice any sign of tension or discomfort in Roy’s stance. Was he perhaps interpreting the silence as companionable? She wondered why she felt so awkward, but decided against breaking the silence and continued to look out the window at the passing buildings, the city lights.
Roy glanced over at Riza as they turned into the small parking lot. Her eyes, unfocused as she stared blankly out the window, were a brighter than usual-probably something in the makeup she wore-but he found himself again distracted by their amber hue. She was always quiet, but tonight he felt something different in the silence, and struggled not to let himself react to it. She had to be worried enough about the hearing-not that she’d ever show it-and he didn’t need to make her more uncomfortable. He parked the car and went around the front to open the passenger door and help her out of the car. She looked strikingly different-he’d rarely seen her dress up at all, just what she wore to work and what she wore to the casual social engagements their small group at the firm had sometimes come up with. As they entered the small restaurant, she turned to look at him. It was all he could do to smile that reassuring smile and follow after her, waiting until “Mustang” was called up on their reservations list and they were led to a table in one of the alcoves.
The dim lighting and quiet music were all he had wanted. He saw her stare at the candle on the table for a few minutes before looking up at him. He would not have noticed any sign of worry aside from the crease between her brows if he had not been so familiar with her face. He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows slightly at her. “What is it?”
She almost cringed at his probing look. “It’s nothing,” she said quietly, avoiding his eyes.
He was about to press further when their server arrived with menus and a delicate platter with bread and a few small cups of spread. He looked over the wine list as the server continued, pointing out the dessert menu on Riza’s open folder, and then explaining the specials of the day. Then, he left with a conciliatory bow.
There was a continued moment of silence as Roy switched to the menu and Riza continued to look it over. He decided what he wanted quickly, and set his menu aside, sipped at his water, and looked at Riza. She looked up a moment later, noticed his gaze, and shifted uncomfortably. “So…”
Roy cleared his throat. “So. Let’s take a look at that statement.”
Riza drew he folded pieces of paper out of her purse and handed them over. They were concise and well-written, as was expected; Riza was used to dealing with defendants who didn’t know how to write a proper statement, so she would naturally avoid the kinds of mistakes they made. Roy even noticed the impersonal tone. It all was what he had expected. “This looks good. Of course-and you already know-we have no way of proving intention in court, but a man pursuing an unwilling female late at night is more suspicious than a simple misunderstanding…”
Riza just shrugged, staring at the small candle. Roy wondered for a moment if she was listening, but then discarded the idea, knowing she was.
“And since we don’t know who the man is, we can’t send him a court order and I can’t make him testify. Nevertheless, there’ve been much more outrageous stories told in court before that the judge has believed. You have a good reputation, so I don’t think they’ll see this as lying. The prosecutor might claim that you have fudged a motive, but it’s unlikely.”
The waiter returned with a tray of food, and Roy smiled over the rim of his wine glass. “But let’s enjoy dinner for now.”
The relief Riza felt as they left the restaurant was not something she could have voiced. All she wanted was to sleep until this had all passed. She knew it was not possible, though, and that she would have to get through this just as she had gotten over all of the obstacles that had once stood between her and where she was now.
Monday morning after a lazy Sunday dawned bright and bleary; the sky’s bright blue was swathed almost entirely in miasmic grey, and Riza tried not to acquire a peculiar sense of foreboding. Despite Roy’s convictions, she knew that since she was pleading innocent, they’d be going to trial. She was waiting for him when he came to her door, and squared her shoulders before stepping out to meet the day.
“Well, that was a disaster.” Riza was fighting off tears, more of frustration than actual sadness, and knew that this time it was Roy hurrying to keep up with her sharply-clicking heels than her trailing after him.
“Hold on, Riza-calm down-“
“Calm down!” Riza whirled, eyes narrowed. In her brown, practical-looking heels, she was almost eye level with him. “I’m innocent and there’s no doubt, but I have to go to trial within a week, and the judge favored the prosecutor-“
“You don’t know that for sure-“
“What was that approaching-the-bench business about then? Of course she favors him-“ Riza couldn’t even finish the sentence. He’d been wearing a sling, for crying out loud.
“Of course they were trying to garner sympathy attention,” Roy said slowly, as if hoping to calm a distressed animal. Riza found that it irritated her; she didn’t want it all to go away. She knew the blood was singing along in her veins at an elevated rate, that she should slow down to calm down, but impulsively, she didn’t want to.
She abruptly turned on her heel; the striking of her heels against the hard tiled floor did more to calm her than Roy’s presence, but she continued at her fast pace, satisfied at the rustling of his suit as he hurried to keep up.
“Well, I still have to drive you home,” he finally said, stubbornness lacing his tone. “You know as well as I do that they don’t have the slightest case against you.”
“You think pursuit by a suspicious man holds water?” Her own tone was scathing. “Could you not see the disbelief written all over the judge’s face?”
“You were defending yourself,” he responded through gritted teeth, “twice in one night.”
Riza finally shrugged and stopped, having led him outside, and to his car. “It’s not my job to prove that.”
Roy reined in his temper with difficulty. “We’re going to the firm. Get in.” She did so silently and he focused on breathing for a moment before he got in, jammed the key into the ignition, and the engine revved to life. Riza was so much easier to deal with, he reflected, when she was not only on his side but working with him in a less stressful, more professional situation. The type of relationship they assumed as client and lawyer rather than as coworkers meant that-though the respect was still there-they could be much more casual with one another, and in the environment where he wasn’t assumed to be her superior, he found that not only was she close to if not as skilled as him, but just as passionate.
He parked the car abruptly and before he could finish getting out, she was walking toward the door. With a mutter under his breath, he locked the car and hurried after her.
When he came in, Feury and Schiezka were standing over her desk, and both Falman and Breda were trying very hard to make it look like they weren’t evesdropping.
“So you have to go to trial, then?” Schiezka’s thick frames slipped down her nose with a tremble. Feury was staring at Riza with a concerned look.
Riza shrugged, carefully ignoring Roy even when the others looked up. “It’s not a big deal. But if you don’t mind, I’d really like to get back to work. I think I spent enough time off.”
After a moment of disbelieving silence broken only by Riza opening her desk drawer and drawing out a thin stack of papers, Roy, Feury, and Schiezka returned to their stations and Falman and Breda returned to their work. Schiezka shot Roy an unreadable glance.
Riza finally felt like she was accomplishing something. She didn’t look up all afternoon but a knock on the door made her glance at the clock on her wall. Five thirty… and just past sunset. She stood stiffly and stretched as their intern, Edward, entered. “Roy, Olivier just assigned you a new-oh, hi, Riza.”
“That’s Hawkeye to you,” Roy said, striding forward and taking the charcoal-colored envelope from the short boy’s hand. “Thank you.”
Ed looked like he was about to say something, but before he could, Riza intervened. “I think I am going to go home now. Thanks for the peace and quiet, everybody.” A last glance over the office, and she found that all of them were staring at her. She grabbed her briefcase. “Ed, are you busy?”
The boy looked taken aback. “No…”
“Then you will accompany me to my house.” She left no room for argument as she exited, and he hurried after her a moment later.
She knew Roy had wanted to drive her home but she couldn’t face being in the same room as him for much longer. He had done a good job at the hearing, but she still felt like something had gone wrong. Instead she looked at Ed, who was keeping up with her easily. “How’s your brother doing?”
Ed shrugged. “Ever since the car accident, he’s been in the hospital… but you already knew that. They’ve been trying to save his body but so far he’s been having a hard time recovering.” He was silent for a moment. “Things are getting better every day, but the tissue regeneration is slow.”
Riza pondered that for a moment. When her dad had finally been pulled from the burning house so many years ago, they had been considering doing those treatments on him before he died of carbon monoxide poisoning three days later.
Ed shuffled his feet to break the silence, and then said, “Did I ever show you my prosthetics?”
Riza looked over. “No.” She couldn’t keep the interest and curiosity out of her voice.
Ed took off his bright read trenchcoat-the kid was so flamboyant, Riza thought-and revealed the glittering, metallic arm. He pulled up the sleeve of his tee shirt to show where it joined with his body. Riza found herself fascinated and oddly repulsed. “They did this one first, before the drugs started to work. It hurt a lot.”
Riza frowned. “Did they ever catch the man who ran into you, Ed?”
“No,” he said softly. “That bastard killed my mom and he’s still out there.” He bent on one knee and pushed back his jeans cuff; Riza matched the material of his prosthetic leg to the one in his arm. “They connected this one to the nerves way after I was out. I didn’t feel a thing. But I imagine it’d be quite painful, judging how the arm felt.” He stood and they continued walking.
“Ed… Your brother is doing OK, right?”
Ed shrugged. “He’s actually not that bad… I guess I just remember him how he used to be.” They stopped, and Ed held a hand out in mock gallantry. “Your residence.”
Riza looked up at her house, then back at Ed. “Thanks.”
“Nop problem, Ri-Ms. Hawkeye.” He had already turned around and began walking back the way he had come. Riza sighed, shook her head, and entered her house. They were such nice kids… it was truly terrible to see tragedies breaking holes in their lives.
Part 2
)
Author: Icy
Pairing: Roy/Riza
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own FullMeal Alchemist or the characters. This fanfic is written for non-profit only.
Note to Mods: I had to split this up because it was too long to fit into one post. Sorry about the multiple posts.
Author’s Note: YES, that DOES say NC-17. Some of the language and content is a little bit more adult than the fics I usually write. Please read at your own discretion.
EXTREMELY AU. Takes place in our world as well. Came out as a mix between CSI:Miami dramatics and Legally Blonde law. This idea just came to me out of nowhere and I was INSPIRED. Might be the longest standalone, chapterless fic I have ever written-sorry about the length. I hope you enjoy it! I tried to include as many familiar names and faces as I could. :)
I apologize for the length! This piece is over 45 pages in Word. Between this and the end of the semester (and everything that comes with THAT-moving out of dorms, into a summer apartment, etc etc) I have been so strained for time! I don’t think my other pairing will be getting a huge fic like this one ;) But I will share the love next month I guess! ;D
In addition, there are probably many typos. I tried to catch as many of them as I could but I apologize in advance nonetheless.
List OF Kisses
(
Riza’s mouth formed a hard line as she looked down at the paper on her desk. The parchment-colored envelope was a stark contrast to the charcoally ones she usually got. She knew exactly what it meant, too. Just like her regular envelopes, it was an alert for a new case. But this one wasn’t from within Headquarters, assigning her to work on a case.
No, this was a court summons, the kind of envelope they sent to witnesses and victims. When they were needed for a preliminary hearing. When they needed to GET a lawyer.
Riza was not a victim.
As if her scowl was gravitational, heads turned slowly her way, colleagues from her branch-Defense Attorneys Falman and Breda were the first to notice. Falman gave a low whistle as his eyes widened in surprise, but before he could speak, their supervisor’s voice interrupted them.
“What are you guys rubbernecking over? Recreation stays outside the office; you all know that.” Sharp footsteps announced his arrival; Riza purposely kept her eyes trained on the pale tan envelope with her name scrawled across in precise, blocky letters. It was starting to blend into her desk, everything was starting to go blurry. “What’s.. What is this? Riza? What is the meaning of this!” She felt a hand clamp around her arm and she was jarred back, away from that dizzying precipice. “Don’t faint,” the voice growled, and she looked up into the dark, indiscernible eyes of Roy Mustang, her … well, he wasn’t exactly her boss, but he also wasn’t her co-worker. She worked under him, in a manner. Heirarchy in law offices was often glossed over.
She flinched as he reached out and snatched the letter off the table. “Keep working,” he said carelessly to Havoc, Breda, Falman, and Feury-the only ones in their office right now-and began dragging her in the direction of the doorframe. Mid-stumble her legs began working again, and she followed him wordlessly.
After the door closed behind her, Roy released her arm and turned around, eyes furious. “What is this about?” His voice was dangerously quiet, and she knew that he was trying not to show his anger. She licked her lips, stunned by the realization that she would have assumed she’d be angry too.
“I… don’t know,” she answered honestly, unable to hold his gaze and instead looking at the guilty envelope again.
“Well, maybe you’d better find out,” he snarled in reply, thrusting it at her. Stunned, she took it and turned it over as he continued. “We’ve been the office with the cleanest record ever at this firm. You’ve had a record that was beyond spotless, which is why you hold almost as much authority in this office as I do; because you have been promoted based on your merit…” She tuned him out as she slid a finger under the corner of the envelope, jerked, and the top tore away easily. He stopped talking at that noise, and turned back around, staring at her and the letter intensely. “Well?”
Riza was proud of the fact that her hands did not shake as she pulled the letter out. But as she read, first disbelief and then anger flooded her. She felt her face growing hot but Roy waited until she had read through all three sheets before prompting her again. “Well?”
Riza sighed, looked back up at him. “It’s not legitimate.”
Roy scowled. “You need to own up-“
“That’s not what I meant,” she said quickly, voice shaking in her anger. “I have to go to court and I might be charged. I mean that I didn’t do anything outside the law-who wouldn’t know the law better than a practitioner-and I’m being charged on the basis of…” She floundered helplessly, too angry to form the correct words.
His expression softened slightly, but she identified the suspicion and anger still there. “What exactly happened?”
Riza sighed. She’d been hoping to avoid this, but it was obviously inevitable. “Well, a few weeks ago I was practicing at the range-“
“Your father’s?” Roy interrupted? Riza nodded.
“I brought one of the handguns with me when I left. Don’t give me that look; I have a permit for it. Even if I didn’t, I have partial ownership of the gun, and the Second Amendment will protect me in that case. Anyway, I was walking home when a car pulled over, and they told me to get in… look, to make a long story short, I was pursued by a man whose intentions can’t have been pure, and when I took refuge in a bar, I apparently interfered with some brawl that was taking place, and when I…” She looked up at him and shrugged. “I shot one of them.”
Roy took a step back and sighed, drawing his hands across his eyes. Riza waited. She knew he couldn’t criticize her for use of the firearm when her life had been in danger. Then, “Did you kill your victim? You should have reported to the authorities immediately.”
“Of course I didn’t kill him,” Riza said in a tone of disgust. “Merely incapacitated him.”
Roy paused. “What about the men in the car?”
Riza shrugged. “Didn’t bother me again. When I came out of the bar they weren’t nearby. I must have lost them, and…” She shrugged again. “I don’t even know who any of them were. I could remember their faces, maybe, if I saw any of them again, but…”
Roy exhaled slowly. “So this letter of summons…”
“Is from the case of a Mister Selim Bradley, who is apparently the man whom I shot,” Riza finished with a shrug. She was struggling to control her anger, and it seemed to be working. Control it, and you could use it as motivation. Let it control you, and you were destined to fail from losing your head to your emotions. Or so she thought; and so she’d seen, countless times, in the cases of criminals who always made one lethal mistake. As a lawyer, she was privy to a number of these revelations, and had learned to translate them into her own life.
She was startled to find Roy staring intently at her when she looked up again from the letter. “What?”
Roy frowned, and shrugged. “We’d better get back to work.” A pause. “When is this hearing scheduled for?”
She bit her lip, looking back at the letter. “Five days.”
Roy’s eyes narrowed. “That’s a load of bullshit. They should know that they have to give all defendants at least a week’s notice-“
“Maybe I’m not the defendant,” she said quietly, looking back at the letter. “Just a witness…”
“Who’s the defendant than?” Roy scowled. “There’s nobody else who could be implicated.”
Riza hesitated. “I don’t know. I’ll talk to the attorney overseeing this case.”
Roy stiffly opened the door back to their office. “Don’t say anything that might-“
Riza smiled. “I know. I’m a lawyer too, remember?” She passed under his arm and re-entered the office, forcibly controlling the slight worry that remained.
“Oh, no. You’re the defendant, of course.” The stern woman frowned over her fashionable spectacles at Riza.
“But, Olivier-“
“I don’t understand what the problem is. I’m disappointed in you. Hawkeye. You aught to act more professionally.” The much larger, much blonder woman raised her eyebrows. “As things stand, you’re already in danger of suspension.”
“Suspension?” Riza blanched. “But I didn’t-“
“This is a matter of the court. We’ll expect to see you at nine-thirty sharp. Look your best.”
Riza exhaled in defeat. If she was a defendant…
“Oh, and Hawkeye. You won’t be needing to come in to work until this case is done.”
Riza took a deep breath, exhaled, and nodded. Paid leave was better than a suspension, at least.
At least, that’s what she tried to tell herself as she wandered aimlessly through the back alleys of Central City, dejectedly not caring where she was going. She had five days to prepare her case. Accused of premeditated assault, she thought in numb amazement. If she couldn’t get the judge’s favor early enough in the hearing, then it’d advance to a trial, and then her spotless record….
She shook her head to clear it of the negative energy keeping her in tumult. She was surprised to hear a voice call her name, though, and as she looked up and noticed a few dingy stalls lining the alley here and there, she realized that she’d wandered into the Market district. With a thrill she remembered that she’d been chased by that man-or those men, she wasn’t sure how many of them there had been-only a few streets over. Slowly she turned, frame tense as her hand automatically went to her concealed pistol.
Roy was hurrying up the alley, waving a hand. “Riza! What are you doing here?”
Relief flooded her and she even managed a small smile. “Just wandering.”
Roy frowned. “Shouldn’t you be getting home?”
Riza sighed. “No, Olivier told me that we made a mistake and I’m the defendant after all… I can’t come in to work for five more days…”
Roy frowned some more. “Really?”
Riza shrugged. “I guess it’ll give me some time to think, put together a case…”
Roy raised his eyebrows. “Surely you’re not thinking of representing yourself?”
Anger flared at that comment, subdued if only because she knew Roy well enough to know that he wasn’t insulting her talents. Roy flinched at her expression and as she opened her mouth, hastily continued.
“I know you’ve won a majority of your cases, but it’s much different when you’re not only personally invested in the case, but when the case is such high stakes for yourself…”
Riza forced herself to calm down, knowing she was just jumpy because this whole business had her on edge. Forcefully she exhaled, willing herself to calm. After a long moment of silence, her brain began to calculate once more. “Who could I find to represent me this close to the case, though? And who would be willing to, once they gain a more complete knowledge of my career?”
Roy chewed on his lip for a moment before nodding slightly. “I’ll do it.”
Riza opened her mouth, and then closed it, thinking hard. “You can’t do it. Of all the people who have a personal investment in the case…”
Roy waved his hand casually. “Nonsense. I’ve represented much more difficult clients before.”
Riza shook her head. “You would want me to win not only because I work for you and you would want my record to remain clear, but we’ve always been on good terms…”
Roy frowned. “If you’re suggesting personal involvement in this case…” He looked at her. “Is there any reason why you’d object?”
She sighed and shook her head. “No. You’re right… I will have a harder time finding anybody this late…”
Roy began a walk toward the main market; Riza fell into step alongside him. “So I have five days to make a case? I’ll need you to be candid with me.”
Riza suppressed the feeling that she was being babied. “Yes, I know. I will.” She looked up in time to catch the twitch at the edge of his mouth that she knew meant he was trying not to smile. She wondered for a moment, before pressing on. “But you surely don’t think you can be so compelling during the hearing that they won’t make a move to take it to trial?”
Roy shrugged carelessly. “If it goes to trial, then it goes to trial.” He paused. “It would be highly beneficial to cut it off before that stage, but unfortunately you know just as well as I do what the chances of that will be. I’ll try my best, of course, but I’m not worried if it does go to trial. Our firm has the best record, and I know that I can win if they’re looking for a long, drawn-out battle.”
Riza sighed and pressed her knuckles into her forehead. “I don’t want a long, drawn-out battle. I want this issue to be dealt with and behind us.”
Roy stopped and turned around; she felt herself grow stiff and had to resist the urge to step back into a defensive stance. “Riza, I wish that we didn’t have a case on our hands at all. But this man clearly wants to implicate you, and there’s nothing we can do legally about that. I need you to understand that I won’t let anything happen to you.” His dark eyes bored into hers; she tried to control her heartbeat, knowing that her pulse would be fluttering wildly in her neck, that he’d be able to see it. He held her gaze for only a moment more before turning around and striding crisply forward, finally out of the back alleys and into the mayhem that was the farmer’s market. It took Riza a moment to unfreeze herself, and she hurried after him, blinking at the bright sunlight after the dark alleys.
I didn’t premeditate anything. It was self-defense, she argued with herself, wondering how anybody for Christ’s sake could think that she’d seek a man out and shoot him. But that was Roy’s job now. Some strange feeling somewhere between irritation and disconcertion bubbled up in her stomach as she looked once more at his back (he was walking purposefully, and had a slight lead on her). He wasn’t going to let anything happen to her? She was just some helpless schoolgirl now, was that it? She paused in surprise as he came to an abrupt halt, and moved more calmly to his side. He was at a confections cart; she shot him a puzzled look, sideways, and he smiled back reassuringly. “Two of those, please,” he pointed to the menu taped to the counter. Riza frowned and looked closely at the cart, but it looked clean enough. Still, she memorized her location just in case she did get food poisoning later. She wasn’t always sure that she trusted farmer’s marker food beyond the fresh produce they offered.
Roy turned away and handed her a large scone identical to the one he kept for himself. She raised her eyebrows but took a bite of the pastry anyway. The sweet glaze melted in her mouth as the aroma of cinnamon and cloves reached her nose. Roy stopped at a bench and Riza willingly joined him.
“Then here’s what we’ll do,” he proposed in a diplomatic tone of voice. “We’ll enjoy our scones and spend some time walking through the rest of the district. You won’t check your watch until I drop you off at your house. You will enjoy the afternoon and your company.” A mischievous twinkle shone in his eyes as he looked at her.
Riza would have protested, but the scone tasted too good. Instead she simply nodded. But what will I do all week, she thought silently.
As if he read her mind, Roy continued. “Tomorrow you will stay home and sleep in, and then you will spend the day finishing the scrapbooking project you didn’t have time to finish last month.” He paused to take another bite of his scone before continuing. Riza watched him in silence. “On Friday, you will wake up no earlier than nine thirty, and will drive to the Pure Botanicals spa, where you will have a day-long appointment. You will relax and enjoy yourself. You will be home by six, and you will spend the evening at home alone. Saturday you will stay home and prepare a written statement, to the best of your memory, of the incident that is being called into question in court. Saturday at seven o’clock sharp, a handsome gentleman will arrive at your doorstep and beg your company for the evening. You will happen to have dressed for an evening out, so you will decide to join him.” As she opened her mouth to protest, he held up a hand. “You will bring your written statement, and you will assist the gentleman in preparing a case for you. Sunday you are free to spend how you please, though you are required to stay home. And Monday, at eight forty-five, your escort will arrive at your residence to bring you safely to court.” Finished, he looked hungry again, and so continued to eat his scone serenely while Riza watched him openmouthed, feeling quite overwhelmed.
He finished his scone and crumpled the wrapper before looking at her. “Are you done?” Mutely she hitched her jaw back up and handed him her wrapper. He rose and walked to the nearest garbage can, disposed of the wrappers, and returned to Riza. “Look, I don’t want you to stress out about this at all,” he said calmly, raising an eyebrow at her expression of suspicion.
“A spa?”
He shrugged. “How long has it been since you’ve had a day of pampering to yourself?” From her thoughtful expression, he knew he was right. “Listen. I’m going to do my bets to prevent this thing from going to trial. You are, of course, pleading innocent to premeditated assault, and that is going to make this much more complicated. I don’t think you should settle, and I know you never would agree to, anyway. So just-let me take care of the hard part, this week, and… as long as you don’t have to come in to work… use your time to enjoy yourself.” He paused. “Don’t stress out about this too much. An angry plaintiff can’t match our teamwork.”
Riza knew that he was right, of course. Grudgingly so. She knew that she should, would, take his advice. She knew that she’d be resisting the impulse to work on the case herself, or at least worry about it, the whole time. But a day at the spa did sound nice, she had to admit. And she had been trying to find time to finish that scrapbooking project…
Roy saw her resistance fading, and internally sighed in relief. He’d needed to convince her to either stay home or go someplace safe-and the spa, or in his company, would be more than secure. Something was fishy about this case, and he didn’t want her safety jeopardized at all. He didn’t doubt her ability to defend herself, but everybody made mistakes. The thought of the man in the car who had pursued her made his skin crawl with a moment of possessiveness that surprised him. Startled, he looked at Riza again, to find her blinking back innocently. “Yes?”
“Nothing,” he replied lightly, recovering quickly. “Just thinking that I would love to take a long, leisurely stroll through the district to de-stress a little bit, myself. If you know anybody who is interested in keeping me company…”
Riza could not stop a small smile from tugging at her lips. “I might know a young woman,” she replied casually, standing as he did and falling into step beside him once more.
Riza knew that she should feel more upset, irritated, and overwhelmed than she did. But all she could focus on as she fumbled for her keys was Roy’s close presence, just behind her. After determining her course of action for the next week-and that meant that he had made an appointment at the spa for her-he had spent the afternoon with her, in innocently amusing social events at the Farmer’s Market. The feelings of irritation that she attempted to summon forth, trying to find herself upset that he thought she could not handle a week’s paid leave from the firm well enough, would not come. This was probably because she knew, as he must, that she wouldn’t be doing anything but worrying and worse. In fact, she would have spent this afternoon-the news still so fresh in her mind-in much worse ways than she had. She’d always been on good terms with Mustang but she had suddenly grown a new, more personal facet on the globe of respect that trembled delicately between then. They both knew that he was toeing the line of professional friendliness with all that he had done so far, but Riza found that she didn’t care. She didn’t even feel too upset about the entire case anymore-though she knew that logically she should be feeling furious and terrified at once. Roy’s assertive presence had calmed her, and she would even go so far as to say that she suddenly felt safer knowing that he’d be taking care of the hardest parts of this case.
“Thanks,” she said awkwardly as the door unlocked and swung open.
He offered her a chivalrous bow. “But of course, Ms. Hawkeye.”
She hesitated, one foot in the door. “I guess I’ll see you Saturday then…”
His eye sparkled at that reminder, but all he said was, “Keep your cell with you. I’ll check in.” Then he was gone, walking back to his practical black car, offering her a last wave as he climbed in, and then driving out of sight. She exhaled and entered her small house, locking the door behind her, turning on a few lights.
She felt a natural smile tug at her lips at the loud bark and the clatter of her companion’s paws on the floor. As the black dog hurried to greet her, tongue lolling out, she bent to scratch behind his ears. “I hope you didn’t get too bored, Black Hayate,” she said matter-of-factly. The dog cocked his head, watching her intently. “I would have been home earlier, but I was with Roy Mustang. He’s the nice one who took you to the park last month.” Black Hayate’s eyes gleamed intelligently, and he laid his head on her knees. After a moment, she sniffed, and fished in her pocket for a treat. The dog barked enthusiastically as he caught sight of it.
“Sit,” she commanded. Obediently his rump plopped on the floor.
“Roll over.” He was getting much better at his training. When he complied, she allowed him to eat the treat, smiling vaguely. It was silly to think that he could understand much that didn’t involve treats.
Riza had convinced herself that she wouldn’t be able to sleep in because she was so used to living such a precise schedule, but she surprised herself when she woke up and glanced over at the bedside table. “Ten thirty!” That made her sit up. For a moment, she continued staring at the clock. Surely she should get up and… she paused, looked at her Blackberry on the nightstand, and saw that she had a text message waiting. Curiously, she opened it.
Good morning, sleeping beauty! Let me know how that scrapbook project goes.
Riza smiled despite herself, staring at Roy’s name for longer than was appropriate. After a few minutes she exhaled and left her bed, mind calm once more.
The hot water of her shower both relaxed her and woke her more surely than the alarm she had not set. It was nice to luxuriate in a shower that was longer than usual by her standards, giving up her mind to a pleasant blankness while standing under the spray. By the time she emerged from the bathroom ensconced in a towel and a cloud of steam, she was able to distinctly identify hunger moving to the forefront of her emotions, so she dressed quickly in casual clothes which she hadn’t worn on a weekday for quite a long time, and then headed for the kitchen, greeting Black Hayate on the way as he emerged from the doggy-door.
With eggs, a link of sausage, and an English muffin balanced delicately on her plate, Riza retired to the den, where her scrapbooking mess was laid out. Her father had called her desire to preserve these memories silly, but Riza enjoyed making the scrapbooks for the way that the mechanical actions did not require a tremendous amount of thought. She enjoyed looking over the memories as well. Nothing gave her quite the same feeling as looking over her archive of completed scrapbooks. Her father, who had passed on long ago, still lived in these books. The mother she’d never known was nothing more than a blurry image on the first page of her first “Family” scrapbook, but she was glad that even that was preserved for future generations.
As she ate her breakfast, she began work on the half-finished scrapbook sitting out. She thought that maybe she wouldn’t finish the scrapbook entirely, but if she finished the latest roll of film she’d be satisfied.
Despite herself she dawdled, turning through the already-completed pages and then staring with thoughtful consideration at the remaining photographs. Bowling night from the group from work, though it had been over two months ago. Stopping only to clear and wash her dishes, Riza began her process of framing the photograph on the scrapbook’s matting, and picking out the accents she’d be using. Progress was slow, but as each page fell into place, and as she finished tacking on the last of the accents and labels and sliding the page back into its protective cover sleeve, a growing sense of satisfaction welled up in her chest. Thoughts of the upcoming court case were far from her mind as she enjoyed the time Roy had given her to… well, enjoy some downtime. She didn’t realize how much time was passing until her phone buzzed quietly, and she saw that it was almost one o’clock. Hastily she read the note from Roy, asking about how she was doing, and she typed out a reply quickly.
Hi. The scrapbook is going well. You will have to be the first one to look at it once I finish.
After pressing Send, Riza considered for a moment whether or not she was hungry, while knowing that she should eat food anyway.
As she entered the kitchen, Hayate hurried alongside her. It was nice, she reflected, to have a peaceful day of quiet. She finished her scrapbook that evening, much to her surprise, before turning in for the night.
The rest of the day passed in quiet restfulness and concentration, and Riza found that she has lost much of her anxiety when she thought of the Hearing. The weekend came in a much more pleasant manner than she had expected, with a restful day at the spa and another quiet afternoon. Saturday morning passed with little exuberance, and it was not until after lunch that she sat down to write her statement.
An attempt to center her scattered thoughts failed. She realized with some clarity that she had been lucky enough to escape her encounter unscathed, but she seriously doubted that a court case was their preferred method of revenge. But revenge… for interrupting a brawl? Wasn’t this getting a little unreasonable? Why hadn’t the bartender been interfering in the first place?
She pushed the matter aside as a point of incidence, and forced herself to concentrate. She was so focused on remembering the details, of leaving the range, of taking refuge in the bar, of the emotions she’d felt when they had advanced on her, of the sweet recoil of the handgun making her soul sing, that she was alarmed to see that it was already half-past five by the time she felt like she had completed a full, thorough statement. You will happen to have dressed for an evening out, fled through her mind as she stared at the clock for another long moment. Then, deciding she would take a shower to freshen up and ignoring the voice telling her that she knew she only wanted to take a shower to keep her mind off of Roy, she left her room abruptly, determined to drown that little voice in the shower.
An evening out? If he wanted an evening out… A half hour later, she re-entered her room, wrapped in a towel, and with her hair bundled up in a towel to absorb the excess moisture. An evening out… what was the kind of evening he had planned? “An evening out” was quite vague. How should she dress? After long consideration, she decided that if Roy had wanted her to dress for a date, he would have just asked her out. But still… how casual did he expect her to dress? Where would they be going, anyway? She thought of texting him, but decided against it almost as quickly as the possibility had occurred to him. She didn’t want him to know how much thought she was putting into this.
As seven o’clock approached, Riza took one last glance in the mirror to make sure she had not missed any details. A white blouse under a dark blazer, a skirt with dark hose, and a pair of attractive heels. She’d coiffed her hair and held it back with a large barrette, which was the most ornate of all of her pieces. She was just turning off the last of the lights in the house when the knock on the door, familiar even in the way the weight fell on the wood, alerted her that he was there. She snatched her purse on her way to the door, and opened it cautiously.
She expected Roy, but not in the dark outfit she realized set off a gleaming fire in his eyes. She struggled to maintain eye contact, wanting to look more than just that one cursory glance, but found it easier as he smiled. “Well then. Shall we?”
Riza locked her door and followed him to his car, where he opened the door for her before going around the car. As soon as the door was shut and her seatbelt buckled, she found herself staring at him. This whole situation was all far too surreal, first of all; second of all… it wasn’t fair for him to look to good in a simple t-shirt, bomber, and slacks. To stop herself from ogling him as he started the car, she licked her lips and said, “So… where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see.” He looked over at her. “You have prepared a statement?”
“I have it in my purse,” Riza replied.
“Good. Just enjoy the ride, then.” He offered her a smile and, with his free hand, turned the stereo on. Riza was surprised to find that she did not mind the mellow sounds of jazz drifting from the speakers to her ears.
They were both quiet the entire ride there, and while Riza occasionally glanced over, she did not notice any sign of tension or discomfort in Roy’s stance. Was he perhaps interpreting the silence as companionable? She wondered why she felt so awkward, but decided against breaking the silence and continued to look out the window at the passing buildings, the city lights.
Roy glanced over at Riza as they turned into the small parking lot. Her eyes, unfocused as she stared blankly out the window, were a brighter than usual-probably something in the makeup she wore-but he found himself again distracted by their amber hue. She was always quiet, but tonight he felt something different in the silence, and struggled not to let himself react to it. She had to be worried enough about the hearing-not that she’d ever show it-and he didn’t need to make her more uncomfortable. He parked the car and went around the front to open the passenger door and help her out of the car. She looked strikingly different-he’d rarely seen her dress up at all, just what she wore to work and what she wore to the casual social engagements their small group at the firm had sometimes come up with. As they entered the small restaurant, she turned to look at him. It was all he could do to smile that reassuring smile and follow after her, waiting until “Mustang” was called up on their reservations list and they were led to a table in one of the alcoves.
The dim lighting and quiet music were all he had wanted. He saw her stare at the candle on the table for a few minutes before looking up at him. He would not have noticed any sign of worry aside from the crease between her brows if he had not been so familiar with her face. He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows slightly at her. “What is it?”
She almost cringed at his probing look. “It’s nothing,” she said quietly, avoiding his eyes.
He was about to press further when their server arrived with menus and a delicate platter with bread and a few small cups of spread. He looked over the wine list as the server continued, pointing out the dessert menu on Riza’s open folder, and then explaining the specials of the day. Then, he left with a conciliatory bow.
There was a continued moment of silence as Roy switched to the menu and Riza continued to look it over. He decided what he wanted quickly, and set his menu aside, sipped at his water, and looked at Riza. She looked up a moment later, noticed his gaze, and shifted uncomfortably. “So…”
Roy cleared his throat. “So. Let’s take a look at that statement.”
Riza drew he folded pieces of paper out of her purse and handed them over. They were concise and well-written, as was expected; Riza was used to dealing with defendants who didn’t know how to write a proper statement, so she would naturally avoid the kinds of mistakes they made. Roy even noticed the impersonal tone. It all was what he had expected. “This looks good. Of course-and you already know-we have no way of proving intention in court, but a man pursuing an unwilling female late at night is more suspicious than a simple misunderstanding…”
Riza just shrugged, staring at the small candle. Roy wondered for a moment if she was listening, but then discarded the idea, knowing she was.
“And since we don’t know who the man is, we can’t send him a court order and I can’t make him testify. Nevertheless, there’ve been much more outrageous stories told in court before that the judge has believed. You have a good reputation, so I don’t think they’ll see this as lying. The prosecutor might claim that you have fudged a motive, but it’s unlikely.”
The waiter returned with a tray of food, and Roy smiled over the rim of his wine glass. “But let’s enjoy dinner for now.”
The relief Riza felt as they left the restaurant was not something she could have voiced. All she wanted was to sleep until this had all passed. She knew it was not possible, though, and that she would have to get through this just as she had gotten over all of the obstacles that had once stood between her and where she was now.
Monday morning after a lazy Sunday dawned bright and bleary; the sky’s bright blue was swathed almost entirely in miasmic grey, and Riza tried not to acquire a peculiar sense of foreboding. Despite Roy’s convictions, she knew that since she was pleading innocent, they’d be going to trial. She was waiting for him when he came to her door, and squared her shoulders before stepping out to meet the day.
“Well, that was a disaster.” Riza was fighting off tears, more of frustration than actual sadness, and knew that this time it was Roy hurrying to keep up with her sharply-clicking heels than her trailing after him.
“Hold on, Riza-calm down-“
“Calm down!” Riza whirled, eyes narrowed. In her brown, practical-looking heels, she was almost eye level with him. “I’m innocent and there’s no doubt, but I have to go to trial within a week, and the judge favored the prosecutor-“
“You don’t know that for sure-“
“What was that approaching-the-bench business about then? Of course she favors him-“ Riza couldn’t even finish the sentence. He’d been wearing a sling, for crying out loud.
“Of course they were trying to garner sympathy attention,” Roy said slowly, as if hoping to calm a distressed animal. Riza found that it irritated her; she didn’t want it all to go away. She knew the blood was singing along in her veins at an elevated rate, that she should slow down to calm down, but impulsively, she didn’t want to.
She abruptly turned on her heel; the striking of her heels against the hard tiled floor did more to calm her than Roy’s presence, but she continued at her fast pace, satisfied at the rustling of his suit as he hurried to keep up.
“Well, I still have to drive you home,” he finally said, stubbornness lacing his tone. “You know as well as I do that they don’t have the slightest case against you.”
“You think pursuit by a suspicious man holds water?” Her own tone was scathing. “Could you not see the disbelief written all over the judge’s face?”
“You were defending yourself,” he responded through gritted teeth, “twice in one night.”
Riza finally shrugged and stopped, having led him outside, and to his car. “It’s not my job to prove that.”
Roy reined in his temper with difficulty. “We’re going to the firm. Get in.” She did so silently and he focused on breathing for a moment before he got in, jammed the key into the ignition, and the engine revved to life. Riza was so much easier to deal with, he reflected, when she was not only on his side but working with him in a less stressful, more professional situation. The type of relationship they assumed as client and lawyer rather than as coworkers meant that-though the respect was still there-they could be much more casual with one another, and in the environment where he wasn’t assumed to be her superior, he found that not only was she close to if not as skilled as him, but just as passionate.
He parked the car abruptly and before he could finish getting out, she was walking toward the door. With a mutter under his breath, he locked the car and hurried after her.
When he came in, Feury and Schiezka were standing over her desk, and both Falman and Breda were trying very hard to make it look like they weren’t evesdropping.
“So you have to go to trial, then?” Schiezka’s thick frames slipped down her nose with a tremble. Feury was staring at Riza with a concerned look.
Riza shrugged, carefully ignoring Roy even when the others looked up. “It’s not a big deal. But if you don’t mind, I’d really like to get back to work. I think I spent enough time off.”
After a moment of disbelieving silence broken only by Riza opening her desk drawer and drawing out a thin stack of papers, Roy, Feury, and Schiezka returned to their stations and Falman and Breda returned to their work. Schiezka shot Roy an unreadable glance.
Riza finally felt like she was accomplishing something. She didn’t look up all afternoon but a knock on the door made her glance at the clock on her wall. Five thirty… and just past sunset. She stood stiffly and stretched as their intern, Edward, entered. “Roy, Olivier just assigned you a new-oh, hi, Riza.”
“That’s Hawkeye to you,” Roy said, striding forward and taking the charcoal-colored envelope from the short boy’s hand. “Thank you.”
Ed looked like he was about to say something, but before he could, Riza intervened. “I think I am going to go home now. Thanks for the peace and quiet, everybody.” A last glance over the office, and she found that all of them were staring at her. She grabbed her briefcase. “Ed, are you busy?”
The boy looked taken aback. “No…”
“Then you will accompany me to my house.” She left no room for argument as she exited, and he hurried after her a moment later.
She knew Roy had wanted to drive her home but she couldn’t face being in the same room as him for much longer. He had done a good job at the hearing, but she still felt like something had gone wrong. Instead she looked at Ed, who was keeping up with her easily. “How’s your brother doing?”
Ed shrugged. “Ever since the car accident, he’s been in the hospital… but you already knew that. They’ve been trying to save his body but so far he’s been having a hard time recovering.” He was silent for a moment. “Things are getting better every day, but the tissue regeneration is slow.”
Riza pondered that for a moment. When her dad had finally been pulled from the burning house so many years ago, they had been considering doing those treatments on him before he died of carbon monoxide poisoning three days later.
Ed shuffled his feet to break the silence, and then said, “Did I ever show you my prosthetics?”
Riza looked over. “No.” She couldn’t keep the interest and curiosity out of her voice.
Ed took off his bright read trenchcoat-the kid was so flamboyant, Riza thought-and revealed the glittering, metallic arm. He pulled up the sleeve of his tee shirt to show where it joined with his body. Riza found herself fascinated and oddly repulsed. “They did this one first, before the drugs started to work. It hurt a lot.”
Riza frowned. “Did they ever catch the man who ran into you, Ed?”
“No,” he said softly. “That bastard killed my mom and he’s still out there.” He bent on one knee and pushed back his jeans cuff; Riza matched the material of his prosthetic leg to the one in his arm. “They connected this one to the nerves way after I was out. I didn’t feel a thing. But I imagine it’d be quite painful, judging how the arm felt.” He stood and they continued walking.
“Ed… Your brother is doing OK, right?”
Ed shrugged. “He’s actually not that bad… I guess I just remember him how he used to be.” They stopped, and Ed held a hand out in mock gallantry. “Your residence.”
Riza looked up at her house, then back at Ed. “Thanks.”
“Nop problem, Ri-Ms. Hawkeye.” He had already turned around and began walking back the way he had come. Riza sighed, shook her head, and entered her house. They were such nice kids… it was truly terrible to see tragedies breaking holes in their lives.
Part 2
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