Equivalent Happiness

Author: MoonStarDutchess

Oneshot Birthday fic for s4pph1r3light

Disclaimer: Don't own FMA and gain no profit from this fanfiction.

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The ice clanked against the glass filled with whiskey as he set it down on the bar. His focus was on the paper in front of him as he read the headline repeatedly. While he was not willing them to change, he held some unreasonable expectation that they had the ability to morph into something he didn't want to read. They were so surreal.

General Richard Fitzpatrick Grumman appointed as Fuehrer.

Seven words conveyed that the direction of the country would change. He wasn't fuehrer-not like his staff and supporters had expected once the corrupt higher-ups were disposed of- but he didn't care. It wasn't to say that his aspirations toward the position died or that he wouldn't work toward being the most powerful man in the military, but Grumman shared similar views and aspirations for what the country could and would be. By the time Grumman retired, he might not have anything to do.

Grumman was making such quick progress with the military restructuring and the most urgent business: the Ishbalan laws. The first area of business was altering the laws regarding them and paying reparations for the past actions of the military. Their leader was easy enough to find and not one Ishbalan present had stepped up to protest the man speaking for them. He had a discussion with the other elders then made their requests of the government. They hadn't requested money in cash form; they requested the rebuilding of their homes and enough supplies for them to get on their feet. The Ishbalans were resourceful and self-sufficient. Grumman had mentioned they'd get far more than what was requested.

Riza had suggested the soldiers who fought in the war be the ones to assist in the rebuilding since they were the ones that destroyed it in the first place. Grumman agreed, as did the Ishbalans. Riza and he would be the first to volunteer for service there even though no actions, no matter how good, could make up for the atrocities they committed.

¶He also mentioned to Grumman about being tried for war crimes and thought the old man would bean him the moment it was mentioned. The Ishbalan leader happened to overhear and was just as angry as Grumman at the notion. He was adamant against it, saying that more deaths would not make up for those lost.

For years, Roy and Riza thought they deserved to be executed. It was a hanging weight over their heads that they were willing to let drop at any time once they "set things right". Now that he thought about it, a more fitting punishment was living every single day knowing what they'd done with their own hands. To dream those nightmares that flared up on certain dates, and to hear and see dead bodies when someone triggered a mental path to the past.

Ishbal was the beginning of the guilt-plagued life he led. One of many things he had to drink or drug (sleeping pills were a godsend) out of his mind. Living with guilt was the worse burden one could suffer so he transferred that guilt into concern for his men so he wouldn't have a reason in the future to feel guilty.

A majority of his concern was on his lieutenant. He hadn't seen her since he'd been discharged from the hospital. She'd been ordered to stay out of the wreckage and smoke of what was parts of Central City, so she'd been transferred to a safe house of Grumman's choosing along with people she trusted.

He hadn't seen her since he'd gained his sight back and was too cowardly to even visit. Afraid that she blamed him for her injury- he hadn't brought it up in the hospital. He should've protected her better.

"Roy, what are you doing back here?" Christmas asked. He looked up. She was standing in the doorway, one of her hands holding back the curtain that covered it and letting in a bit of the bright light from the party going on out front.

"Just thinking to myself. I'll be out in a few minutes," he said. When he saw a worried expression flash on her face, he reassured her, "I'm fine. Just need a bit of quiet."

"I'll make sure no one interrupts you."

"Thank you, Madam."

She grinned at him and left. The curtain fell and the darkness reclaimed that part of the room. He reached over and adjusted the level of the oil lamp beside him, casting a bit more of the orange glow into the room.

-/-/-

¶He didn't know how much time passed—he'd been staring at his drink and drifting into realms of memories—before he heard heels clicking on the floor. He looked up expecting one of his sisters, but it was Riza.

¶He couldn't think of a word to describe how lovely she looked. She wasn't dressed as fancy as the other women at the party, but she was more beautiful than any of them were. She wore a simple velvet dress, blue, and modest heels. She didn't have any makeup on and her hair was down over her shoulders. A choker necklace covered her neck and he could see the bandages from her injury peeking out from under it.

¶But she was most beautiful because she was alive and breathing and standing right there in front of him with that kind smile she'd had since they first met.

¶He was afraid he'd wake up and she wouldn't be there. Afraid that he'd have to visit her at the same place he visited Maes.

¶ "Christmas said you wanted to be alone, I can leave if…"

"When I tell someone that I want to be alone, it never applies to you," he said and patted a stool beside him. She walked over and sat down, then set her glass of what looked to be ginger ale, down onto the bar.

They spoke nothing for a few minutes, enjoying the companionable silence that occurred between them whenever they were alone. "Are you okay?" she finally asked.

"I honestly don't know. Is feeling surreal okay?"

Riza chuckled and looked down at the wood grain bar. "I feel like that too."

"I'm taking the time to think things through. What we've gained, what we need to gain, what we've lost."

"And when you say lost, you mean Maes?"

"He's a part of it yes." He took a drink. "I haven't spoken to Gracia since his funeral. I feel bad for that but I can't face her."

"She visited me at the hospital."

Roy looked at her. "She did?" He was unable to keep the surprise from his voice.

"She was looking for you actually, but she wanted to talk to me about something as well."

He wanted to ask what they'd talked about but caught himself last minute. It wasn't any of his business. "I see."

"She told me she was proud of us. That Maes would be too."

Roy wondered what would've happened if Maes not been murdered. Would he have lived only to die in the final move? Would he be here talking with him instead of Riza. Roy laughed to himself. Maes would've probably dragged him out there to the party and not allow him even a second to think things out. Sometimes, despite the man being his best friend, Maes didn't know what was best. "I think he would."

"She told me that he wouldn't want us thinking about what was lost and want us to move forward to make the best future we could. That's what he was trying to do with Gracia and Elecia. She asked me to try to do the same."

He agreed with her. Maes wouldn't want them to sit around and mourn the fact he wasn't there, and no one would know that better than his wife would. He looked over at Riza. The woman that knew him just as Gracia knew Maes. "She's right. There are a lot of things I want to do in the future. To make things better and to honor his memory."

"I'm sure he's already proud of you, Sir."

Roy chuckled and shook his head. "You and your afterlife beliefs."

"I've seen hell already. Doesn't there have to be a balance in the universe."

Roy laughed again. "I would say that the balance is the happiness that exists in the world to go along with the bad."

"But is that equivalent?"

"What do you mean?"

"Has your happiness ever been equal to Ishbal's hell?"

He let his gaze drift over her. From the tip of her shoe, up around her waist, over her bare muscular arm, along her shoulder, and stopped on her neck. "Sir?" she asked. He must have been staring so long.

He downed the last of his drink before standing and walking over to her. He touched the side of her neck gently with the tips of his knuckles at first, before extending out his fingers and moving them to rest behind her neck.

She tilted her head up to look at him. Questions floated, adrift in her brown eyes.

"When you were laying there in your own blood, that was a worse hell than Ishbal," he said. "I was willing to give up anything for you. Do anything to make sure you survived but you wouldn't let me. Do you know how tortuous that was? You could've died but you wouldn't let me save you."

"You don't know that you could've, and there are more important things than me out there."

"Not to me," he said. "My goals be damned Riza. Attaining them would mean nothing without you there. I would've been nothing."

"Don't talk like that."

"You asked if I ever felt happiness that was the equivalent to the horrors of Ishbal. Yes. It was when you were okay. When that little angel Mei healed you. When I could fight knowing whatever I did, whatever happened to me, you were alive."

"Sir. . ."

He lifted his opposite hand to the other side of her face, both his hands now cupping her head. "I wouldn't have given a shit about my sight had you not been alive. I didn't want to be blind because I was letting you down. I wouldn't have been able to live up to the man you think I am if I couldn't see."

"That's ridiculous," she said. "Sight or not, you're still Roy Mustang."

He summoned up the courage to say what had been on the tip of his tongue since the moment she entered. No, since they were both in the hospital. "That loyalty is one of many reasons why I'm in love with you," he said. Her mouth opened but nothing came out. She looked halfway between shocked and confused. He could've chosen a better time to tell her, but he'd used the better time excuse for years now. This was the only lull in work they'd have for a while. "I've been in love with you for a long time."

Riza laughed. "Me too." He must've looked surprised because she followed with, "You didn't realize?"

"I knew there was something with us, but I never imagined you. . . I assumed you just saw me as a close friend. "

"So did I. All the women you dated, I figured..."

"A majority were contacts. You were on my mind most of the time." When she blushed, he leaned down so his face was closer to hers. "You know, Maes always wanted me to confess to you," he whispered. His lips were a hair's breadth away from hers. "He told me to grab you, kiss you, and carry you away and ravish you."

Her hands moved to his sides and gripped his belt. "Well you don't have to grab me now," she said. "Though carrying me away might be problematic since you're hands are injured and I'm rather heavy."

"I'm up for a challenge." He moved to kiss her but stopped when the curtain covering the door opened. He pulled away.

"Hey you two!" Rebecca said. "Come on, they're about to start up the dance music."

"There they are," Havoc said, peering over her shoulder, followed by the other men.

Suddenly, Christmas's voice shrilled. "Get your asses away from that door and leave those to be or I'll throw you out on your heads."

"But, madam," Vanessa said. "They're missing all the..."

"Fine," Riza said with a sigh and stood. "Let's go, sir."

"No," he said. He was tired of everything regarding their relationship being postponed because of circumstances and people. Maes had always told him that if he waited too long, he'd lose her. He wouldn't wait anymore.

She stared at him. "Sir...wha—"

He turned to the others. "Get out, now. Before I roast you."

The curtain fell and the room dimmed once more as footsteps scampered away from the doorway.

He took the two steps separating them, grabbed her around the waist, and pressed his lips to hers. Her eyes immediately closed and her arms twined around his neck. When he pulled away, she was gasping for breath.

"Do you have your gloves?" she asked without looking at the door. He didn't think he could look away from her if his life depended on it.

"Not with me, no," he whispered and held her closer.

"Where are they?"

"Upstairs in my old room."

Her hands moved up to entangle in his hair. "I think we should go get them."

She pulled away from his hold and took his hand. "It might take a few hours though," she said.

"Really, why is that?"

"You have to ravish me first."

"Ah, so I do."

He kissed her again before lifting her in his arms despite the still small ache in his hands. She was not heavy like she said she was. "What if someone comes looking for us?" Riza asked as he carried her up the stairs.

"Bullets go through doors. There's a gun in the nightstand."

"Then I'm all yours."

"I like the sound of that."