He was staring at her.
She was accustomed to his looking at her from time to time, and it had never flustered her before. But this time, he was staring at her with smoldering eyes, looking up from under his bangs. She'd seen him look right through people before, but never her.
"Sir?" she asked uncertainly. He stood up to face her.
"Hawkeye, I… There's something…" He took a step towards her, and hesitantly reached for her hand. That's when she realized that he was extremely nervous about something.
"What is it, sir? What's happened?" she asked, her heart starting to beat faster.
"Nothing," he reassured her, and gave her hand a slight squeeze. "I've…I've done what I can," he said with a deep breath. "I think…I think everything will be alright now. You and Havoc should be safe. Falman and Fuery and Fullmetal weren't even in Ishbal, so there's no way they can get dragged into it…"
"You've done it, then."
He nodded. "I'll relinquish control tomorrow. The papers are already signed, and the appointed committees can decide my fate. They'll probably appoint an interim President, at least until…"
"I will not let them…"
He shook his head. "We must. Let them. Everything will be as it should. This is the fate we accepted on that day. We did not run away, like Armstrong or Marcoh. We did as we were ordered. We stuck with it. And now we are here."
She nodded unhappily. "I understand."
"But…that is not what I wanted to discuss with you." He reached towards her face, and gently brushed her bangs aside. "Elizabeth, I…" his voice trailed off.
"Sir, what's wrong?" she asked again, though now her heart was racing for a different reason.
"I…I can't believe I'm having trouble talking to a girl!" he finally said.
She looked at him gravely. "I am more intimidating than most girls."
"It's not that," he said quickly, though his eyes did flick to the gun at her hip briefly. "You…you know me already. I can't…I can't impress you, can I?" he asked, hopefully.
"You already have, sir," she said, tempted to reach for him, but still restraining herself.
"And here I've thought my charms don't work on you!"
"They don't, sir. You earned my respect when you planned my father's funeral."
"Oh, Riza," he said, pulling her into a sudden hug. "I don't want to ever let you go."
She said nothing, enjoying the wonderful feeling of being crushed in his arms. Her arms were caught between them, but for once she was not concerned about being unable to reach for a gun. He pulled back from her slightly, putting his hands on her shoulders.
"I have only one goal left, but I need your permission for this one," he said quietly.
"What is it, sir?"
"I want to make you happy, Riza." He leaned in closer, so their foreheads were touching. "Deliriously happy," he whispered. "May I try?" he asked, his breath hitting her lips as he spoke.
"Yes," she said in response, and as soon as he heard her answer, he brushed his nose past hers and kissed her, ever so gently. He barely touched her lips, just breathing against her. Her hands found their way behind his head, pulling him to her. He continued to kiss her gently, as if afraid she would fall apart in his arms. He paused, and pulled back to see her face. She smiled at him, and he looked at her in awe. "So beautiful," he murmured. Closing his eyes, he let his head fall back towards her. He wanted to explore those wonderful lips…
Sometime later, he was enjoying having a rather breathless Riza in his arms. "That was…a good start, sir," she informed him.
"If you're going to continue calling me that, I'm not going to let you say 'sir' to any other man."
He decided she must have caught her breath, so he kissed her again.
"I'll always call you 'sir' when you are in uniform," she said, as if there had been no interruption.
He glanced down at himself. "I can take care of that," he said, grinning.
"Not right now!" she laughed at him. He just kissed her again. He had decided that was the solution to all his problems. And even if kissing Riza wouldn't really solve anything, he was willing to try it out wholeheartedly.
Let tomorrow come.