I disclaim…

a.n. So I wrote this back in… June, I think, and only just found it hidden in a folder on my hard drive just now. Rereading it, I'm not sure why I never put it up, unless I'd thought of adding a chapter. Either way, I'm declaring it complete as of now and letting all you lovely people read it. Set post-manga/Brotherhood. Enjoy.

summary: Twentieth anniversaries deserved a proper celebration, even when it's only twenty years of friendship and seemingly nothing more. Post-manga/Brotherhood. Oneshot. Royai.

A Fullmetal Alchemist Oneshot
By FlamingRedFox

"Ya know, Hawkeye," he held out his glass towards her. "It's been twenty years and you still haven't married me."

She clinked her glass against his, a wistful smile playing at her lips as her mind dredged up that ancient memory. "Maybe not," she murmured, "but twenty years later I'm still letting you drag me into trouble. Pity I haven't learned that lesson yet."

The sound she made was something between an indignant huff and a snort, distorted by her wine glass as she took a sip. It drew a chuckle from him as he watched her across the table, absently sipping at his scotch. They were rare, these reflective moments between them, hidden in candlelight and reserved for only once a year. Once a year for twenty years they'd sit and dine and drink and talk and together they would remember the past.

"But you've always liked it when I get you into trouble." His smirk was boyish, teasing, more genuine than usual.

She countered it with a falsified frown that contrasted greatly with the smile in her eyes. Her voice was laced with sarcasm. "Hardly. Every wrong in my life has stemmed from my association with you."

A silence fell over them as they realized her words carried an unintentional weight. He really was responsible for most of the pain she'd suffered, though not all of it could be attributed to him. She'd caused a great deal of strife for him over the years too. It was as if no matter how hard they tried one of them always ended up hurt. And yet, despite the pain, they refused to leave each other alone.

She grabbed his hand, fingers massaging the scar on his palm as she looked him in the eyes. Her voice was little more than a whisper as she finally broke the silence. "We know that's not true."

"Don't kid yourself." His hand tightened around hers, ceasing its movements as he pulled it towards him to press a lingering kiss to her fingertips. He didn't let go as he lowered their hands back to the table. They still had a few hours left; a few hours to remain secluded in their back corner table of some family owned dive that stayed open too late and let them reflect on times better and worse with as little interruption as possible. He wouldn't let her go until he had to. "I've dragged you through hell and back more times than I can honestly count."

Taking another sip of wine, she shook her head. Her hand felt warm in his and she squeezed his fingers gently, reassuringly. "It was my decision to follow."

"Guess you really haven't learned your lesson." It was his turn to be sarcastic. At least it lightened the mood somewhat.

She steered the conversation back to their previous topic. "Think we ever will be married?"

"At this rate, probably never." His eyes grew dark as he traced his thumb along the length of her pinky. "Or we'll be as old as Grumman by the time we finally get a chance."

Her gaze was bitter and she finally pulled her hand away from him, gripping her wine glass with both hands. The sudden lack of warmth only intensified the coldness in her face. "I never did believe in parapsychology."

"You were the one who'd made that prediction. Six months spent trying to get your attention only to find out the reason you didn't like me was because you were afraid you'd end up marrying me." He tried to stay focused on the conversation while he schemed up ways to restore the physical contact between them.

Her glare softened as she dragged it from her wine back to his face. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she let go of the glass completely. Instantly both her hands were held tightly in his. Her expression seemed thoughtful. "For all intents and purposes I am your wife. You just haven't given me a ring yet."

"You've certainly perfected the art of nagging me into doing things I don't want to. Like paperwork." He pouted childishly, drawing a laugh from her. He wished he could hear her laugh more often. Better yet, he wished he could make her laugh more often. He was one of few people who actually knew how to make her laugh something more than a polite chuckle.

She laced her fingers with his while rolling her eyes. "If you'd do the work to begin with I wouldn't have to nag you. Then I wouldn't have to worry about making sure you don't get demoted back to Colonel, General Mustang." As an afterthought she added, "What always has you so distracted?"

"You sure you want to know?" There was something suggestive in his question, if the smirk on his face was any indication.

She had a strong feeling she was going to regret her words. "No… But now you're going to tell me anyway so I might as well say yes."

"You." He hadn't missed a beat, gazing at her with such a smug pride that she'd almost reached over to smack him. "You see, I've got this handful of memories I'd prefer would never fade. Ideally, I'd like to relive them at some point. And maybe bring a few select fantasies to life now that I think about it. But Grumman still hasn't read my proposal on revising the fraternization rule."

It took a great deal of strength to keep the blush from rising in her cheeks. She was thankful for the dark lighting of the restaurant. She knew exactly which memories he was talking about. Those first few months after her father's funeral had contained a surreal amount of pure bliss. Fifteen years later they still entered her thoughts at inappropriate times. A snide remark was always a good way to deflect embarrassment. "You mean my proposal. I had to write it up for you. Like everything else, I doubt you read it before signing your name to the bottom of it."

"Eh, you're more articulate than me on paper. And if I had written it, you probably would have rewritten it anyway. Not like you'd let the words 'request for permission to fuck my aide senseless' leave the office." He released one of her hands to finish his scotch, immensely enjoying the horrified look that crossed her pretty features.

By now she should have expected no less from him. Still, the blatant crudeness of his admittance had stunned her into silence. She was thankful her wine was still on the table; had she been in mid sip upon hearing his words she would have done a fine impression of Edward the day she'd called him out on his feelings for Winry. Closing her eyes she willed her mind to override the mental images he'd just conjured for her. Why did he have to take such pleasure in making her frustrated?

She drained her wine as she fixed him with a level glare, refusing to dignify that with a verbal response.

"Fifteen years." He was smirking at her now. "You know as well as I do that's exactly what it'd be like."

Apparently he was good at frustrating himself too because the hand that still held hers tightened involuntarily. His mind was running wild with the things he longed to do to her. It was as if some dam had broken and now every erotic image he'd ever had of Riza Hawkeye was spilling over and clouding his vision. The raw desire that burned in his gaze was a mirror to the longing in her own.

Her breaths were measured, a subtle sign of her quickly fading resolve. "You just had to go down that path, didn't you?"

"You're the one that asked." A frown was darkening his face as they let the silence take over.

Neither were successful in gathering their thoughts, and she was actually startled by the sudden appearance of their waitress. Desperate eyes fixed upon the woman who'd dared to intrude upon their little sanctuary. Was there anything else she could get them? Hah. Nothing she could bring could possibly quell the fire that had ignited between them. Nothing except…

She was surprised by the urgency of her own voice. "The check."

He must have been surprised too because now he was staring at her in concern. A nod of his head sent the waitress off while he tried to figure out what exactly the woman across from him was thinking. If she was thinking what he thought she was thinking… But it would be uncharacteristic for her to be thinking such things. Then again, he was thinking it and she had always been amazingly perceptive to what was on his mind. The waitress returned with their bill before disappearing back into the belly of the restaurant.

"Riza?" It was all he needed to say as he dug money from his wallet and laid it on the table.

She tugged him to his feet and led him to the door. "I don't know why I let you get me into so much trouble."

"Honestly tell me you don't enjoy it." His voice was smug as his arm found its way around her waist. Fraternization laws and witnesses be damned. Twentieth anniversaries deserved a proper celebration.

a.n. Yes it's dark, yes it's sarcastic, yes it's filled with [sometimes blatant] innuendo, and yes I think some of the dialogue isn't quite in character. It had been fun to write though, and I couldn't let it just rot away on my laptop when it actually feels like a completed piece. Especially when I used a few interesting stylistic quirks. xD

I took a few liberties with back story and what not, so most of their little reminiscing scenes are from my own imagination. This was mostly a strange pondering on why Roy and Riza aren't quite married, though I do hate using "fraternization" as an excuse. I hope you've enjoyed it and gotten a good chuckle or two out of it like I did. It's rare I share my darker humor.

If you can spare a few moments, please review. Constructive criticism welcomed. Thanks for reading!