Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist. I'm just playing with Arakawa's toys. :)

"Can I entrust my back to your dream?"

They were standing in a sparsely furnished room, Roy a few feet behind Riza. A little bit hesitantly, Riza slipped her shirt off her back and let it fall to the floor, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She knew it shouldn't feel awkward—he was just looking at the alchemy code—but she couldn't help the uneasy feeling in her stomach. Friends didn't just look at each other half-naked, even if this was a special case. To Roy's credit, however, he had treated her with nothing but respect.

"Um…Miss Hawkeye?" Roy's voice broke the tense silence surrounding them. "You can sit down if that's more comfortable for you. And…here, wear this backward." He didn't like to see anyone uncomfortable, much less a woman. He handed Riza her jacket so she could cover up her front, hoping to make her relax at least a little. After all, he felt just as awkward about it as she did, maybe even more. Upstanding young men, especially military men, didn't treat women like this, even if theirs was a special case.

But this was the only way to get the code. When Riza had first told him about where her father's research was located, he was furious. "How could he…why? Who could treat his own family like that?" His hands clenched at his side as he burrowed his furious gaze into the ground, unwilling and unable to make eye contact with his teacher's daughter.

"It's okay, Mr. Mustang. It was a long time ago. I'm fine with it now." Sure, maybe she was fine with it now, but that doesn't change the fact that at one time, she had to go through with the painful procedure for the nothing more than the burden of carrying her father's secrets forever. Roy didn't even want to know if she had gone through it willingly or not. Even if he did want to know, he wouldn't have been able to bring himself to ask. He couldn't even speak now. Words could not describe his anger and disgust. Fathers were people to trust, honor, and respect. Berthold Hawkeye had given his daughter no reason to do any of these things…so why did she?

How could she?

Roy's mind snapped back to the present as he remembered his task. He grabbed a stool from the next room over and brought it back for Riza to sit on. Saying nothing, Riza carefully sat down. She addressed him, but refused to look at him. "Mr. Mustang...how long do you think it will take to decode?"

The array on Riza's back was immensely complicated, and Roy didn't even know where to begin deciphering it. "I don't know. It looks like it could take a while," he said apologetically. He didn't want her to feel exposed longer than necessary, and he had to admit that he didn't like the prospect of staring at her back every day for an eternity. Well, he did, having completed puberty not long before, but it was unbecoming of a respectable young man, not to mention utterly distracting. "I'm sorry. I could make copies—"

"No." Riza's voice came out determined, fueled by a strength he had not seen from her since her father's death. "No manuscripts. My father didn't say much, but that part was clear."

Roy nodded and started to stare at the array. It was going to be a long, long time before he was finished. He just hoped she thought his dream was worth the wait.