I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of its characters; they were created by Hiromu Arakawa.

Letters from Elizabeth

Chapter 1: Empty Office

It was a fresh and cloudy day when Colonel Roy Mustang was walking around Central City's military headquarters during his lunch break. He'd stopped by the cafeteria minutes before, where most officials usually ate, but the one person he'd hoped to share the meal with hadn't showed up. It'd been mostly like this for some weeks already, but he still insisted on checking the place everyday just in case he managed to spot her at one of the tables. Last time they met, she revealed the identity of the first homunculus to him right at this place, wisely speaking in a code only the two of them understood, knowing that anyone who tried to eavesdrop would never get a clue. He hadn't seen her ever since.

There was hardly anyone else there he could talk to now, despite the building being crowded. All his subordinates, who were also his friends, had been reassigned to different cities by direct orders from King Bradley, the Führer of Amestris. The objective behind this change was to keep them all distanced enough so they wouldn't be able to communicate with each other and plot any kind of rebellion against the brass. They were planning something evil that the Flame Alchemist hadn't exactly figured out yet but had been working on for some time. There was, however, a very important obstacle that kept him from even trying to investigate on the matter. First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye, Mustang's adjutant, bodyguard and most faithful subordinate, had been taken hostage by Bradley as an unmistakable warning for the Colonel. The irony was that she was free to her own will; she lived at her apartment and went to work everyday on normal routine. Nobody who talked to her could tell she was being monitored at every single moment. But she knew, and Roy knew, along with anyone who was close enough to both of them. As the country's leader's personal assistant, they'd found a way to keep Mustang exactly where they wanted him: in sight, but away from their plans. He wouldn't dare do anything that could disturb the higher-ups when she was under vigilance of the two most powerful homunculi. He could still see her or call her, but with the knowledge that everything they said and did would be heard and watched. There was no privacy. They couldn't plan together a way out of this situation, being their only alternative to wait until everything was over, even if they still didn't know how long that would take.

Guilt was slowly consuming Roy as he blamed himself for what Riza had been put through. He couldn't stand the fact that she was still physically near him, working under the same roof, and yet virtually unreachable. Also, he missed her terribly, he realized. What with his big office being now occupied by a single person he felt miserably lonely. He told himself, maybe with one or two of his other subordinates around he wouldn't miss her so much, but eventually all of his thoughts would go back to her, while writing documents, during breaks, before he fell asleep, first thing when he woke up. It was driving him mad just not getting to see her.

That Friday at noon he was looking for some quiet restaurant to eat at to avoid the racket of H.Q., when he walked by an old flower shop and decided to pay its employee a short visit. There was a girl in her early twenties with dark blond hair behind the counter saying goodbye to an old man carrying a potted plant.

"Hello, Vanessa. Looking good!" Roy said flashing her a smile.

"Roy! Oh, it's great to see you! How've you been?"

"Pretty bored, really. And loaded with work."

"Well, that's not good. I thought you had someone to cheer you up. That pretty coworker I always find you with?"

"Yeah, well. She's quite busy too these days so I barely get to see her."

"Oh, too bad my new boyfriend is so jealous. I would totally go out with you." She curled a strand of hair around her index finger. "And I have to say, you're still a tiny bit cuter than he is."

"Really, you're not single anymore?" His hands landed on his chest as he made a fake pout. "Vanessa, you're breaking my heart."

"Oh, quit it. I'm not even your type."

He chuckled. "So, any news from the Madame?"

"Not really, but I'll tell her you said hello."

"Alright, I'm on my lunch break right now so I should go get something before I starve."

"Okay. Oh, wait! Hold on a second." She rummaged through a mess of papers in a drawer as she explained, "Some of your girlfriends know you stop by this place every now and then and decided to use the shop as a post office or something." She handed him an envelope, "There."

"Well, aren't you kind? Giving me a love letter from another woman."

She laughed. "It's not you I'm dating, hon. Not right now at least. I shouldn't mind."

"True that." Roy looked at the thin white object. It read To Roy Mustang in a feminine handwriting, but it lacked information of the sender. "Who's it from, anyway?"

"I don't know. I just found it here. But let's check it out."

"What? You're not reading my mail. This will at least entertain me later at the office."

She crossed her arms. "Fine. Guess I'll see you later, then."

He waved her goodbye. "Take care."

Later that day, Roy relaxed in his comfortable seat with a cup of black coffee on his wooden desk. There was a stack of paperwork on the left waiting to be done, but despite his boredom, or maybe because of it, he'd been working efficiently all week and knew they would be finished before due date. Hawkeye would be shocked if she knew. In front of him there were other desks which were smaller than his, with some chairs around them, but they hadn't been given use in many days now. The room was a complete contrast of what it used to be, filled with jokes and laughs and constant chatter; people getting in and out until it was time to call it a day. He wished in silence for those times to return, though had he said anything aloud, it wouldn't have mattered in the quiet of the empty office.

He took the yet mysterious envelope from his pocket and gave the words in black ink a second look. The handwriting was actually familiar. He was used to receiving gifts and invitations from women ever since he came back from the war. He gained fame among the city as the Hero of Ishval, as if that hypocrite title actually meant anything good. He hated it, but eventually learned to live with it. He wasn't a womanizer and disliked those who took advantage from a wrongly earned popularity, but he enjoyed the attention and was never one to say no to a beautiful girl. Who was he to reject them, anyway? Finally, he opened the letter in his hand and started to read, thinking he wouldn't get even the slightest surprise.

Dear Roy,

It's been almost a month since I last saw you. I hope you're doing fine. You must be so busy now that I heard all your subordinates were reassigned. That's too bad, now you won't have time at all to see me. At least that scary lieutenant of yours who was always around won't bother you for a while. Anyway, I'm writing just so you know I'm alright, because I know you may be wondering. We're having lots of work here at the flower shop so at least I keep my mind off of worries most of the time. My new boss is a little too strict and rigid but otherwise he doesn't treat me bad at all. Over tea he mentioned holding a weak spot in his heart for his wife, and I thought it was sweet of him to trust me with that. His kid is kind of a freak, though. I don't like him very much. I'm giving my best here so things are pretty smooth. If I don't get to see you soon I'll write again to let you know how I'm doing. Also, Jacqueline is still at the hospital because of that ugly accident she had, so I suggest you visit her more often. Be a good guy and work hard so we can meet again, will you?

Love,

Elizabeth

Roy pondered the words for some seconds until he burst out laughing. Oh, he definitely knew this woman, yes. "How smart," he muttered. Elizabeth didn't work at the flower shop really, it was a code. Everything was. He skimmed the letter a second time to fully absorb its content. So she's fine, which was a great relief for him. The boss and his son were, Roy knew, King and Selim Bradley. She may have found a weakness in Wrath but he still didn't know how that detail could be helpful. And even when she wasn't around she managed to remind him that he had work to do; something that usually bothered him in the past, but would now result actually pleasant. He breathed deeply in content, and the grin on his face lasted for the rest of the day.

There was a soft but soundless wind outside, playing with the first fallen leaves of autumn. Some clashed against the window of Jean Havoc's hospital room. He was reading the newspaper when he heard a knock on the door. "Come in," he yelled, and saw Colonel Mustang enter the room. "Chief! Now this is a surprise."

Roy sat next to the bed. "Why would it be, Havoc? You think I'd forget about my subordinates that easily?"

"I thought maybe you'd died under a pile of papers. Even Breda called me once a week."

"He did? How is he?"

"Not bad, actually. He adapted pretty fast. Says they don't laugh that much at his jokes, though, and can't wait to come back."

"Yeah, I guess we all agree to that, I want all of you back." Havoc pursed his lips. "How's your healing?"

"Slow… they should release me, already. I don't even have hope myself to ever walk again."

"Don't say that. When I reach the top, I'll need your ninja skills when we go fishing again, so I'm counting on you, you hear me?"

"Fine," he murmured, taking a cigarette box from the bedside table.

A redhead woman with a nurse's cap stuck her head out from behind the door. "Mr. Havoc, I'll come in a few minutes with the syringe, please be ready," she said before closing the door again.

The Second Lieutenant dropped the box next to the lamp in the same condition he'd grabbed it. "Damn."

"Did I come at a bad moment?"

"No, it happens all the time. I hate those things."

"She's cute, though," Roy smirked.

"Don't you dare. Get your own nurse." The Colonel laughed. "Speaking of, are you seeing Hawkeye?"

"I haven't seen her in weeks, no. Elizabeth, on the other hand… she's contacted me."

Havoc raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what does she say?"

"Basically, as long as she keeps playing submissive secretary she'll be fine."

"Well, sounds like she's taking it easy."

"She also reminded me of visiting Jacqueline, so…" he rolled his eyes.

Jean chuckled. "Then tell Elizabeth that Jacqueline says thank you and she can visit anytime too."

"That's the problem. I can't talk to her without being supervised, you know."

"I don't really see what's so bad about it. As long as you don't mention work or other important matters, you can still have a simple talk with her, can't you?"

"I suppose."

"At least let her know you're still alive. I bet she could even decipher smoke signals if you so much as tried."

The Colonel sighed. "Probably."

Black Hayate scratched the door in reaction to the doorbell before Riza could even ask him to stay quiet. "Who is it?" she asked cautiously before opening. She wasn't expecting anyone.

"Special delivery, Miss," she heard from the other side. She frowned but finally unlocked the door to receive the shipment. She blinked in confusion as she saw a teenage boy standing in the doorway; he was holding a cardboard box which contained a white vase with a bunch of pink carnations. A dozen, she counted.

"Flowers? How strange." A little card was hidden among them. When she stepped back into her apartment, she read it to herself. I remembered you didn't have a vase so I just decided to send the whole thing. Hope you like them. Roy Mustang. She smiled at the gift. She hadn't thought she'd get any response from him, but she was glad he acknowledged her discreet method of contact. She hoped they could keep communication flowing for as long as possible, so she wouldn't have to walk unnecessarily by his office door daily for a lucky chance of crossing paths with him. She wasn't too proud of this new childish need to see him that had grown in her, though. Logic was, if anything important happened to him at all, she would immediately know about it and be able to help him. It was still the same building they were working in, after all. She briefly wondered why not seeing the Colonel bothered her more than not seeing the rest of his team, but before she could come up with an answer something else caught her eye.

The card had on the upper left corner the small picture of a mistletoe tied with a red bow. It was the distinctive logo of Madame Christmas' Flower Shop, the same place she had been to some days ago. There was no doubt about it. Her letter had reached its destination.