There were a dozen new interns a day, it seemed. All the council members must have had a staff of twenty (at least!) to create the numbers of new people Roy saw around Central HQ nowadays. Everyone joked that he must be having the time of his life, what with all the pretty young girls running around. Roy grimaced. As if.

The one in front of him now – a curly haired brunette with a shirt a little too attractive for a political environment – had introduced herself as Claire Norton and hoped that "they would work closely together in the future." And that was all well and good; she was assisting the new council speaker, so chances were that she would be delivering a lot of messages to him. But the question she had asked after…

"Why, Fuhrer Mustang, does your wife know that you have such a pretty bodyguard standing by all day?"

Roy didn't have to look to see the expression on Riza's face. He rubbed his temple with one hand.

"Yes, Miss Norton, my wife knows perfectly well that Riza is my bodyguard."

Riza took the hint immediately; he could tell by the shift in her posture.

"Sir," she said coolly, "didn't you have to meet Major General Fuery to discuss the state of the warehouses in West City today?"

"Wha- oh damn, I did! Miss Norton, I'm afraid I will have to cut our discussion short. Forgive my rudeness."

"Oh, not at all," she tittered. "Good luck with your meeting."

Roy stood and bowed stiffly before exiting the room. The unobservant Claire Norton did not notice that his footsteps stopped shortly thereafter, or that the door to the office remained slightly ajar.

"So, d'you think I have a chance with him?" Claire asked Riza in a conspiratorial whisper. "I know he's a married man and everything, but just think of what I could get as his mistress!"

The blonde woman's gaze was completely inscrutable. "You are not a very smart girl, are you, Miss Norton?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Here you are, casually telling me about your intent to ruin the marriage of a political leader, and you don't even know my full name."

"Well," Claire frowned, creasing her brow in a way that the boys back home must have found adorable, "does it really matter?"

"I think you'll find it does."

"Alright then, what's your name, ma'am?"

"My name, Miss Norton, is Riza Mustang." She paused to enjoy the look of horror on the girl's face. "And I suggest that you don't ever forget it."

The Fuhrer, ever pleased to watch someone else take the brunt of his wife's sharp tongue, chuckled from the doorway.

Author's Note: You guys I am the biggest sap ever for these two. Anyway, this is just some light comedy I wanted to put out here before I jump into the super angsty, longer fics that I've been coming up with. Hope you enjoyed!