Fullmetal Alchemist (Roy/Riza)

[wolfbrotherjas.livejournal.com]

Title: Rediscovery (title will probably change before I'm done)
Author: Jason A. Stevens
Rating: PG (at least these first two chapters)
Warnings: None really, yet (aside from crossdressing)
Word count: 1,408 (Chapter 1), 1,479 (Chapter 2), 2,887 (So far)
Summary: Cross dressing - Roy wears the miniskirt
A/N: Couldn't get it finished in time, but here's what I've got so far. Started simple and then it just grew. So be it. Chapters 1 and 2 below, and the rest should be done by the end of the month, though more than likely by mid-month.



1.

Riza was trying hard not to laugh. Despite her herculean efforts, however, a smile was insidiously starting to crack her calm and collected demeanor. Before she could give herself away, she beat a hasty retreat back down the street, though not before taking a few clandestine photos. Once a safe distance away, she allowed herself to laugh. It was just so...unexpected. Composing herself, she readied for the next phase of her own little operation. After seeing that, she definitely had to see the rest, even if it had rendered her plan unnecessary.

As the self-appointed protector of Mustang, she'd of late been concerned about the "covert operations" that he'd been engaging in approximately three times each week. At first, they'd been short, but had quickly grown longer, and nobody she talked to (even feigning interest in Elysia to ply Hughes for information) had any idea what she was talking about. Most just assumed he was with a woman or women. Riza was no stranger to his womanizing ways, but she had checked--he'd never been at his house or any of his preferred haunts for seducing ladies. To top it off, he'd been coming in after the longer excursions looking rather exhausted, though he did seem in good spirits. Not that he applied that spirit to his paperwork. In any case, she had set out to discover what he was really up to.

She hadn't expected to see Mustang in a dress.

***

Roy really didn't know why he was doing this. At first, it had simply been curiosity, but that could no longer explain it, considering how it had snowballed into something much bigger. It couldn't be right, but if he were being honest, it was actually kind of fun. He also enjoyed the unique power that it granted him. Of course, that was offset by the fear of being recognized and, to a lesser degree, the guilt. Ever since he had decided to start this, a state of terror always overcame him until safely at his destination. If his enemies knew--or his colleagues, for that matter, he'd never live it down. Fullmetal would especially have quite a field day with that.

Of course, the odds were that Fullmetal himself had already gone undercover in pursuit of the Philosopher's Stone. His brusque and impatient manner would only get him so far, and would likely only worsen relations with those reluctant to help. His brother would have (at least sometimes, Roy corrected himself) convinced him of that. So if it came down to it, Roy could at least turn it back on Fullmetal and delight in the look of outraged shock it would bring to the boy's face, along with the inevitable rant. He briefly allowed his mind to ponder Fullmetal in female garb and smirked at the mental image before resuming his preparations for the night.

He'd already put on the undergarments, including the amazingly realistic forms (which, as far as he knew, had not yet existed when he had first done this, years ago), and was now stepping into the dress. As usual, he got an electric thrill as he pulled it up and slid the zipper along its track. Roy looked in the mirror, checking the ensure the appearance of the dress. Satisfied, he headed over to the restroom to apply his makeup, a procedure that had become, worryingly, almost second-nature. When finished, he gently put on his wig and adjusted it, taking the next few moments to admire his handiwork. Perhaps not as pleasing as the past would have indicated, but were he to run across the lady looking back at him, he'd definitely be interested.

It was almost time. Sliding on his satiny opera-length gloves, he ensured that the arrays were undamaged and then slipped into his heels, heading for the rear entrance. Upon opening the door, he snapped his fingers to ignite the quite efficient smoke-generating candles. A sprinkler system would extinguish them in less than a minute (another timeframe which had continued to lessen).

Under cover of smoke, Roy greeted his private driver and was on his way.

***

Riza followed. Leave it to Mustang to use pyrotechnics. He'd probably told his neighbors it was some non-lethal new military technology. Maybe bribed them if they still protested. Creating a simple-looking military order would likely have been simpler, but that would be paperwork, something Mustang took great pain to avoid even when on the job. Ironically, his little deception would almost certainly result in paperwork, anyway. She smiled slightly as she continued her pursuit.

Wherever the Colonel was going, it was definitely on the outskirts of Central, further even than some of the bars he usually frequented. Some time later, his vehicle stopped outside a nondescript looking bar with an unassuming name, the Vivid Vixen. Only the sign next to the door betrayed its alternative nature: 'Drag shows three times a week. All welcome!'

Riza drove on for another five minutes before returning, ensuring that Mustang's ride had departed. Having done so, she approached the entrance and stuck her head inside, seeing a surprisingly large crowd for what appeared such a small place. She also heard the tail end of an announcement.

"...our newest special lady, the fabulous and fiery Raquel!"

The figure that emerged from behind the curtain was, of course, Mustang himself, walking to the center of the stage through an alley of flame. Riza spared a few moments to take in his appearance and was impressed at how he looked, hardly like a man in a dress at all. It was strangely erotic.

She pulled out before she could be seen and smirked. She could have some fun with this, finally get Mustang to recognize her as more than just a subordinate. He wasn't the only one who could scheme.

***

"Hold your breath, 'cause it's about he get very hot in here! Please don't forget to breathe, though. That would rather dampen the proceedings. Ever since her first appearance here, blazing onto our stage and igniting a wild passion in our hearts, we've had quite a hard time convincing the fire department that everything's okay! Without further ado, please join me in welcoming our newest special lady, the fabulous and fiery Raquel!"

The applause, though not deafening, was loud. Those would be the fans, though there would undoubtedly be new patrons, as well. It was those new patrons Roy was interested in; surprisingly, men in drag turned on a good number of women, so his fondness for the fairer sex was not jeopardized in the least. He'd not yet been curious enough to do more than flirt with any of the others, and that was mainly just part of the show. But it was time to focus; pleasure could wait until afterwards.

Roy stepped through the curtains, creating a hall of flame through which he walked to reach the center of the stage. Once there, he dispersed the flames, sending them out and over the audience's heads before letting them fizzle out. Waving, he scanned the crowd, winking at those regulars and new patrons that he made eye contact with. One dark-haired lady in particular captured his eye, and he suffered a brief moment of panic upon realizing that her companion was none other than Jean Havoc. The attack of nerves passed as he saw no hint of recognition in the Havoc's eyes, which were nervously flitting about as if embarrassed by being there. Roy deliberately made eye contact and winked, smiling broadly at the flush it brought to the Lieutenant's cheeks. He also didn't miss the evident arousal of Havoc's companion. The poor man needed confidence if he ever wanted to hold on to a woman.

The show went seamlessly and without a hitch, his pyrotechnic tricks and surprisingly good singing voice winning over the crowd yet again. He was particularly proud of the trick he'd finally perfected; that of creating a small spark in particularly sensitive areas. It had taken some time to get right, but he had compensated those inadvertently injured and the end result made his shows more popular than ever. How many others could claim they could give patrons the same level of stimulation?

After his portion of the show, the dark-haired lady had snuck backstage (leaving Havoc to wait uncomfortably for her return from the restroom) and she and Roy had left together.

Havoc waited there until the bar had closed.

***


2.

One week later...

There was miniskirt in Roy's closet.

It was not his. He didn't even own one. Yet, here one was, hung up with one of his uniforms in place of the pants. There was no sign of the pants anywhere. Attached to the skirt with a pin was a note consisting only of two typed words: 'WEAR ME.' More disturbing was the picture behind the note: of him in his glittering purple dress, sans wig and makeup. He must have forgotten to shut the blinds that particular night. The photo itself gave him nothing--it seemed to have been taken from the street, so it could have been done by anybody.

The miniskirt itself was a clue, though. It was in the military style and seemed to match the specifications he had submitted under his 'Alternative Uniform Proposal' to the company that many enlisted men ordered spare uniforms from. If he could find out who had placed an order, then he'd know who had broken into his home and replaced one pair of his uniform pants with the skirt. At least their intentions didn't seem hostile. Probably more a joke than anything else.

Roy was not amused. He picked up the phone and dialed a number.

"Lieutenant Havoc."

"Yeah, boss."

"I have some business I need to attend to, so I may be in late. Be sure to get a message from anyone who requests to see me."

Roy hung up, dug through the mound of papers on his home desk for the number to the uniform manufacturer, and dialed again.

***

Riza nodded to havoc as he hung up the phone, his mood seemingly flattened. Apparently, he assumed Mustang was simply with yet another woman.

Riza herself was unworried. Even if Mustang took the time off to research who had placed the order, all he'd find would be that it had been he himself. Pressing for details would then only reveal that a kid from the street had come in with the signed order from Mustang. Should he find that child, all he'd be able to tell the Colonel would be that he'd been given the paper by a blond man in a military uniform (in reality, a traveller whose train had been delayed, more than willing to costume himself for some amusement before his postponed departure).

Perhaps she was setting up the innocent Havoc, but she knew it would quickly become evident that he knew nothing. Then Mustang would reach another dead end, though she doubted he'd show up to the meeting later on. He was just to stubborn for that. She could be patient, though, raise the stakes. The longer he waited, the more he risked. Havoc didn't need to be moping around, however.

"Lieutenant Havoc."

He rolled his eyes up to meet her gaze.

"Quit moping, you'll find someone eventually. Now get productive and when the Colonel deigns to show up, let him know that the paperwork isn't going to take care of itself."

Havoc started to salute, then realized his cigarette had fallen to the floor when Riza had so easily interpreted his mood and jolted him from his lethargy. After recovering it, he clumsily finished his salute as she walked away.

***

Roy had to give credit to the person responsible, as they'd done an extraordinary job. The signature on the document was practically flawless, and the document's text matched the style of any of his official correspondence. They'd probably put in at least one other agent between themselves and the ragamuffin who had shown up with the order. He'd still look for the boy regardless; the description brought to mind one of the urchins in Hughes' street-level network. He'd talked to Hughes already and asked for the boy, so he had returned to his office, where he'd been for just over two hours now.

He'd idly looked at a few papers, even filled out a couple forms before growing bored. Spying a report from Fullmetal, he flung it across the room, reducing it to ashes before it hit the ground. He'd just have Fullmetal give a verbal report, since he was always amused by the indignation of the young alchemist. Roy destroyed a number of boring and routine reports in a similar fashion before leaning back in his chair and picking up the book from his desk.

His bookmark had been replaced. In its position was another note, and another photo, though this one was merely the promotional shot the Vivid Vixen had taken. Still, it meant that someone knew, though they still had yet to make a public move. After reading the typed note ('Raquel--water tower--10 tonight'), he'd held both over the trash bin and allowed the fire to consume them. He'd never liked being a step behind his opponent, indeed, relished his usual upper hand. Catching up was always harder than staying on top, and it would be made no easier considering the apparent skill of his opponent. He'd just made up his mind to send someone to the tower in his place when the phone rang.

"Mustang."

"Roy, you won't believe what Elysia just--"

"Did you find the boy, Hughes?"

"Yes, and I took the most adorable--"

"Is the boy there?"

"--picture. You should really come over--"

"Put the boy on, Hughes."

"You don't have to be so abrupt, Roy. Are you sure you--"

"Yes. The boy?"

"Mr. Hughes wants to make sure that--"

Roy gave an exhausted growl. "I'm sure. Do you remember who gave you the paperwork?"

"Sure, he paid okay. Blond guy, military uniform."

"Thank you." Roy said and hung up.

Apparently, he was supposed to think that Havoc was the one responsible. He could be, of course, but it begged the question of why. What possible reason would he have? He wasn't the type of person to challenge others, just your typical nice guy. He might have trouble with girls, but nothing to the degree that would attempt blackmail or whatever this was. No, Havoc was clearly being set up. Roy decided to play along, bringing Havoc in and having him sit.

Havoc fidgeted for a couple of minutes under Roy's steady gaze and then broke the silence.

"Boss?"

"Have you ever heard of the Vivid Vixen?"

Havoc blushed.

"I'll take that as a yes, though conversations work best if both participants speak, Lieutenant."

"Sorry, boss. It was just a rather awkward experience. Strange. My date was the one who--"

"See anything...interesting while you were there?"

Havoc's blush intensified. "That would be a rather appropriate description, sir."

"How so?"

"I'd rather not say."

Roy had been paying close attention and had noticed the slight shift in Havoc's demeanor. At first, he'd merely been embarrassed by the mention of the Vivid Vixen. Now, however, there was an element of fear, too. Havoc's eyes would occasionally dart over to the chair against the wall before returning to Roy. Roy couldn't think of why; on the chair was the spare uniform he'd picked up from the cleaners on the way in. Glancing over, he saw he was correct, but also noticed what was under the chair: a pair of his high heels. Havoc had apparently seen them, linked them to the talk of the bar, and deconstructed Raquel to come up with Roy. As the revelation dawned in Roy's eyes, Havoc began to stammer. Roy cut him off.

"Lieutenant. You will tell no one, or I'll have you in a dress."

But Havoc was in shock for an entirely different reason. "She left...with you?"

Roy smirked and nodded. "Not a word, Havoc."

The stunned man nodded and left the room, and Roy gave his unknown opponent an even greater degree of respect. He'd played right into their hands.

But who were they?

***

From her vantage point at a popular restaurant down the street, Riza had a good view of the approach to the water tower. It was now 10:07 and she'd seen only Havoc go and look around. She could still he his figure pacing around. When she'd spoken with him earlier, he seemed to be hiding something, so she had to assume he'd discovered Roy's secret as well but was too loyal to make anything of it. That suspicion had been confirmed when he mentioned that Mustang had assigned him to check out some supposed terrorist activity by the water tower.

Of course, Riza hadn't expected to see Mustang, and knew that he'd be frustrated to know that nobody had showed up to meet with him. Having his adversary know so much about him while he knew so little of them would annoy him to no end. It was still early in the game, though, and he'd still be stubborn, especially with Havoc's report (or lack thereof).

Give him a false sense of security, though, and...?

***

I apologize once again for its not being complete!

Comments

[veleda-k.livejournal.com]

:D :D That's great! I love Riza's scheming, and Roy's investigative (and drag) skills.

I won't complain about it not being finished, as long as I get to see more eventually. ;)