Summery: Roy decides it's time he settles down and he has his eyes on the only girl who's ever been immune to his charm, Sciezska.

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist and they don't pay me.

Pairings: RoyxSciezska

Warning: Spoilers for whole series. Some light cussing, for now.

A/N: Thank you to all those kind souls who read and reviewed this story. It means a lot to me! I'm glad there are others who want Roy and Sciezska to hook up as much as I do (and they can both hook up with Ed, as far as I'm concerned, as well). I guess I should mention that this story is kind of an experiment in a way. I'm just trying to hit on all of the major parts of a relationship instead of going day by day. I hope it works out. Well, please enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think of it. Thanks!

The First Kiss

It had been two weeks. Two weeks and four dates later and the same thing happened every time.

"Thank you for a lovely evening, Roy," she would say, blush slightly and smile.

He would lean forward and she would nod, curtly, and shut the door. He'd thought of pulling her into him so she couldn't get away and hide behind the door. He was doing everything right. They'd gone to dinner. The theater. The opera, which was sold out and he'd had to get the tickets from a scalper. On the last date he'd taken her to a poetry reading. She'd seemed to like it. Her eyes glistened, lost in the performance, hands gripping the program. He'd wished her hands would grip him like that.

"General?" Hawkeye asked and walked into the room, gave him her customary salute, and stood at ease.

"What is it?" he asked and began to scribble on a piece of paper. Two weeks. He'd never waited two weeks for a kiss. In two weeks he'd usually gotten what he wanted and walked away.

"Do you have the paper for the council?" she asked blandly.

"I'm working on it!" he snapped.

Hawkeye didn't flinch, but he felt her eyes on him. They could have been daggers.

"I'm sorry," he said softly and rearranged the patch on his eye. The string cut into his skin at times and was horribly uncomfortable.

"Quite all right, General. You have the right to be frustrated."

He looked at her and wondered, for the hundredth time, what she thought. Surely she couldn't know what he was planning, but then he never knew with Hawkeye. Women in general may have been intuitive, but she took it to a whole new level. He also wondered what she thought of it if she did know, but he didn't dare ask. He was determined that their relationship remain professional.

"Of course I do," he said, but there was no force behind it.

"Have you tried a book?" she asked, her face betrayed nothing of her feelings.

"Yes," he said and ran his fingers through his hair. It was getting too long, but he hadn't the time to go to the barber's shop. "I've given her three."

Hawkeye nodded. "Not all women want presents, General," she said and turned to go.

Roy frowned. He let her go. He'd thought he knew what women wanted. They wanted flowers and romance and him. He was beginning to think he may have been wrong. At least when it came to one.

-------------

Sciezska pushed up her glasses and frowned at the note and the flowers. The rest of her office's filing cabinets were already decorated with two vases. One with red roses the other with pink. This new bouquet was white and yellow and red. It was fragrant and quite beautiful, but then her office already smelled heavily of roses, with the smallness of the space and the heat of late summer.

She almost didn't read it. She had an idea of what it would say, something similar to the other two notes. This was turning into a bigger disaster than she could have possibly imagined. She wished he would stop taking her to such nice places. She'd had to dip into her book fund to buy a new dress just for the opera, and she wasn't sure if she'd ever get to wear it again. It was beautiful, a rich deep blue satin overlaid with pale blue silk, and it made her feel elegant. But she didn't want the thing to sit in her closet and collect dust when she could have bought several books instead.

Sciezska sighed and ripped open the envelope. She read, bit her lip, and then slightly smiled.

"More flowers?" Fury asked and walked in, a pile of files balanced in his hands.

Sciezska nodded and quickly moved them off of her desk so Fury could be free of his load. "Yes, he, umm, doesn't know when to quit."

Fury wiped his brow and nodded, smiling in his friendly way. "Who is this special guy then? Are you finally going to tell me?"

Sciezska blushed and frowned at herself for doing so. "It's really just a hassle," she said and began flipping though the files. "I can have these done in a day or two, if that's all right?"

"It's fine. The General doesn't need them until Friday," Fury said and glanced at the flowers. "If someone's bothering you I'm sure we can have someone talk to him, scare him away, if that's what you want."

Sciezska stared at Fury and pushed up her glasses slowly. "No, it's really fine. He's not that much of a bother."

Fury nodded slowly and waved as he walked out of the door.

Sciezska watched him go and let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. It was much too warm in there. She opened the window and got back to work.

By the end of the day she had an idea for the flowers. She piled all three vases in her arms and carefully loaded them into a cab. For a moment she was afraid of being caught, by General Mustang or ever worse, Hawkeye. She didn't want to explain anything to either of them. But the light in General Mustang's office was burning brightly and that gave her a sense of relief. She climbed into the cab after the flowers and gave the cabbie her instructions.

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"Sciezska has a boyfriend?" Havoc said and took a long drag off of his cigarette.

Fury nodded. "He sent her three dozen roses, but she won't say who it is."

"Probably sent them to herself," Havoc said and Breda laughed.

Fury frowned. "I don't think so."

Roy frowned at well. "Will you women stop gossiping? We have work to do."

The three of the nodded and turned back to their desks, Havoc and Breda still chuckling.

It was going to be a low moment for Roy Mustang, but he took a deep breath and waited until everyone else had left. "Fury, I need you to stay for a moment."

Fury pushed up his glasses and nodded, visibly confused. "General?"

"Sciezska said she had a boyfriend?" he asked and tried to sound concerned and perhaps ever so slightly annoyed.

"She never said she did, but this fellow's been sending her loads of flowers. Actually General, I was a bit concerned about her myself. She said he's a bother and I was wondering if someone's been harassing her."

"A bother?" Roy said and frowned deeply.

Fury, too naive to catch on, nodded. "I wish we knew who it was."

"Did she ask for help?" Roy asked and rubbed his good eye.

"Well, no," Fury said slowly, a frown decorating his features as well.

Roy shook his head. "Then it's really none of our concern, is it? I just hope she gets those case files copied by Friday. You're dismissed."

Fury nodded and left.

Roy stared out of the window for a moment. Central glittered below him. She hadn't liked the flowers then. He balled his hands into a fist and grit his teeth. She should have just told him. She used to tell him anything that was on her mind but now. . . . Now she seemed as tightlipped as Fullmetal had been.

Roy took a deep breath and let his annoyance out with it.

Edward. He'd gotten her the job. Introduced her to Hughes and all of her new found friends. Given her the confidence to be herself, something he'd never seen in the little library mouse she'd been before. Damn it. Roy'd noticed she'd looked at Edward, watched him at times. But it was so hard to tell with her.

Roy shook his head and laughed. It was amazing how much trouble the boy could cause when he wasn't even around anymore.

Roy grabbed his coat and left.

-------------

"I thought you would like them," Sciezska said and placed two of the three vases on the coffee table in front of her.

Gracia smiled and set down a cup of tea. Elisia stood on her tip toes to smell the pink ones and Sciezska smiled.

"You can have those, if you'd like."

"Really? Can I mamma?" she asked and smiled.

"Of course you can, darling," Gracia said and sat back with her own tea. "How did you come upon so many?" she asked calmly.

It was one of the things Sciezska liked about Gracia, her calmness. Even after the death of her husband she'd been calm and strong and wonderful. Sciezska doubted she would have reacted the same.

"Well," Sciezska said and took a sip of the tea. It was light and slightly fruity. "That's why I came. It was Ro. . . . General Mustang."

Gracia raised an eyebrow. "How is he?"

"He's doing well, I suppose," Sciezska said and felt her cheeks flush.

"I haven't heard from him lately, but he is very busy. How many times has he taken you out?" Gracia asked and smiled softly.

"Four different times," Sciezska said and took a large sip of tea. She'd thought talking about it with someone would make her feel better. Instead she felt young and stupid. General Mustang had a reputation. Good or bad it was a reputation and she didn't want to be another woman in his path to be paved over and forgotten. But then she didn't know what she wanted besides that either.

"Roy is handsome," Gracia said. "I told Maes so the first time I met him," she laughed. "And do you know what he did? He agreed with me."

Sciezska smiled sadly. It did sound like something Hughes would have done.

"They are beautiful flowers. Are you sure you want to give them to us?" Gracia asked.

Sciezska nodded. "I don't need them. They look much better here than they would at my house." She didn't mention they would get in the way of her books.

"I think you two would actually make a good match," Gracia said.

"You do?" Sciezska said and frowned. She expected Gracia to tell her to run away from him and never look back. But then perhaps that was only her own instincts. Gracia liked to see people happy. She'd often told Sciezska she should get out and socialize, meet people her own age with similar interests. Roy wasn't exactly that person, but Gracia didn't seem to mind in the least.

"Hughes used to tell him to settle down and get a wife. Maybe he's taking that to heart now that he's reached the top. You'd be good for him and he you, but that's only if it's what you want," Gracia said and smiled. Her eyes lit up briefly.

"Thank you for the tea. It's a bit late and I was planning on making one more stop before I went home," Sciezska said and stood up.

Gracia showed her out into the cool night air and waved as she walked down the street, the last vase of roses cradled in her arms.

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The night air cleared Roy's head. His back was aching from sitting in that damn chair all day and the walk helped ease the pain. He'd found a gray hair in the mirror that morning as he shaved. It had been a pretty silvery gray, but he'd pulled it out and sighed. He was getting old. Not too old, although it felt like it at times.

Sciezska was at least twenty, he hoped she was anyway. He honestly hadn't thought of it. It was funny how the years could flow by, like a river, and here he was with the thought in his head that he was still the same Roy he'd been in the beginning. Just as young and fresh and naive.

Although he honestly couldn't remember being naive. Not after everything that had happened. His innocence was so far gone there was no reminiscing about it even. Lost forever. Like Hughes. Like Edward.

Once again he found himself thinking of the kid. He'd been naive. But that was before Roy had ever met him. Before they tried to bring back their mother and failed. They'd paid a price. They all had.

Roy rubbed his face. The bad eye. The one the bullet had ravaged. That was his price. He didn't mind. It wasn't much to lose, really. He'd thought he owned more. He'd lied. He'd used those children for his own means. He knew now he'd had no right. They weren't pieces to be pushed around a chess board. He only wish he could tell them that. But Alphonse didn't remember, so there was no use begging forgiveness for his crimes from him. And Edward was gone.

Roy glanced across the dark field lined with headstones. It was morbid to visit the cemetery at night. It wasn't something he'd ever admit to, but there'd been a story he'd heard as a boy. Ghosts and spirits listen at night. They have more power when the sun goes down. It was stupid. He didn't believe in a god or a hell, but he thought that maybe, just maybe, the ghosts were real. Maybe they were listening. Maybe they could talk back.

They never did.

As he wandered the cemetery, to no place in particular, he saw someone in the distance. For a moment his heart stood still. Not in fear or apprehension or ever belief. It was shock, he decided, that someone else would do the same thing he would. He began to edge his way closer, curiosity getting the better of him.

His feet on the wet grass sounded unbearably loud in his own ears, but the person didn't seem to notice. They were crouched next to a grave, back turned, and when he stopped he thought he heard someone singing softly.

It wasn't a beautiful voice, but it was sincere and sad. It nearly broke his heart.

When he was only a few grave stones away the person rose and turned.

-------------

"What are you doing here?" they said in unison and then both frowned.

Sciezska hoped it was too dark for him to notice the flowers he'd given her placed on Hughes' grave.

"I was on a walk," Roy said.

"So was I," Sciezska said. "You shouldn't go sneaking up on people like that."

"Perhaps you shouldn't walk alone in the cemetery at night. Anything could happen to a young girl like you. Who knows what kind of people frequent this place," Roy said, his point countered by the overwhelming chorus of crickets.

"You're here, and I'm not a young girl. I'm a young woman," Sciezska said and felt her cheeks get hot, and not from embarrassment.

"Right you are," Roy said and was glad it was dark. He couldn't believe he was blushing.

"Why did you sneak up on me?" she asked hotly and pushed up her glasses. It was bad enough to be caught, but to be caught by him was even worse.

"I saw you then I heard you singing," Roy said and let himself smile, though he doubted she could see it. He could only make out the glint on her glasses in the moonlight, and the shadowy figure of her body.

"You heard me?" Sciezska said and felt suddenly ill. She could just imagine the smirk he was giving her.

"Yes. You can't sing," he said, "but neither can I."

Sciezska stood in silence for a moment and shut her eyes. There were crickets chirping and the distant sounds of the city at night. She could hear her heart beat. Then he started to sing softly. It was an old love song. She remembered hearing it on the phonograph as a girl.

Lavender blue,

Dilly dilly,

Lavender green.

If I was king,

Dilly dilly,

I'd need a queen.

His voice shook slightly as he sang and he was never on key. He couldn't hit any of the high notes either.

Who told you so,

Dilly dilly,

Who told you so?

I told myself,

Dilly dilly,

I told me so.

When she opened her eyes he was staring at the sky and his voice tapered off and stopped.

Sciezska smiled slightly and almost laughed.

"Why were you here at night?" he asked and began to walk towards the cemetery gates.

Sciezska frowned, but decided she couldn't look much stupider. "The dead listen at night," she said quietly and turned to follow.

Roy reached for her hand and gripped onto it. She held his hand as well and looked up at him. Her heart felt lighter all of a sudden. She knew Gracia was right. He was handsome, even if he couldn't sing.

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Roy walked her all the way to her house. They talked when they had something to say and were quiet otherwise. Sciezska didn't feel the need to chatter, something Roy admired about her. Sometimes it was nice to just be quiet.

When they reached her house he let her hand go, and she smiled at him. It was a wide smile, slightly weary from the walk but beautiful nonetheless.

"Good night," he said and stared at her.

"Thanks for walking me home," she said and glanced at the door.

"Sciezska, if you didn't like the flowers you could have told me," Roy said.

She frowned. "I just didn't need them, is all. They were pretty," she said and unlocked the door.

"Kiss me," he said, with more force than he'd meant to use.

"What?" she said and turned pink.

It was cute. Roy always thought it was cute when she blushed.

"Kiss me or tell me to get lost. You're choice," he said and hoped he wasn't making a horrible miscalculation.

For a moment she studied him, squinted her eyes to better see him in the dim light of the street lamps. He thought she was going to turn and leave him for a moment. Then she leaned up and slowly pressed her lips against his. They were soft and full. She tasted slightly like cinnamon and he put his arms around her waist and held her there.

He wasn't going to let go now.