'Till St. Patrick's Day
by Moe Shmoe
Genre: Just good 'ol fluff
x-posted to fma_yuri, fma_rare and fm_alchemist
Hawkeye sat at her window, idly watching the way the snowflakes swirled down, silhouetted against the dark, cloudy sky.
Christmas was a lonely holiday, she decided, pushing away from the sill and drifting into her kitchen. The whole month of December was boggled with dates and parties, gift exchanges and thousands of smiling faces that she’d never see again. There were always those new, lovesick officers, probably as lonely as she was, who’d barrage her with gifts and affection and hopes for a companion for the holiday.
And for some reason, despite her own loneliness, she’d refuse, smiling regretfully. The night of the twenty-fourth was easier to enjoy with a forlorn happiness.
Knowing that things could be better, if she wanted them to be.
But then, after the initial rush and she returned to her flat, everything was quiet and peaceful. She couldn’t enjoy the smell of strong cider as much if someone else where there, could she?
The clock began to chime, slowly and steadily. One, two, three, she counted mentally. Four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten-
Was it that late already? Eleven, twelve.
Just as Riza stood to head upstairs, yawning and stretching, there was a knock at her door. Curiously, she walked over and opened it, just enough to poke her head through.
“Maria?” She asked, blinking away her surprise. “Come in! What brings you here?”
The dark-haired Lieutenant smiled pleasantly as she shook snow off her boots. “I thought I might not be the only one alone on Christmas Eve.” She said as she shoved a neat, wrapped box into Riza’s hands. “Merry Christmas!”
“T-Thankyou.” The blonde stammered, ushering Maria into her kitchen and pushing a mug of cider towards her. “I can open it now?”
The brunette nodded, sipping on her cider and watching with large brown eyes. “Of course! I wouldn’t have given it to you at Christmas if I didn’t want you to open it.”
Unable to argue with her logic, Riza shrugged and pulled off the ribbon, peeling away the paper from the box.
“Oh, Maria!” She exclaimed softly, not wanting to wake up the neighbors. She pulled out a scarf, classy and fashionable, so unlike her other tacky knitted scarves that she kept hidden under her bed.
Maria smiled. “I thought you’d like it. Open the… other one.”
Glancing at the brunette suspiciously, Riza pulled another unwrapped box from under the scarf, letting it slide between her fingers, long and heavy in her hands. Skillfully she slid off the lid and stared at the most beautiful pistol she had ever seen. It was sleek, one of the newer models that came out specifically for the Christmas season, nestled in silk.
Words weren’t necessary to show her thanks.
“I thought you’d like it,” Maria replied, smirking. “Couldn’t keep my eyes off it when I saw it in the store downtown. I just knew I had to get it for you.”
Hawkeye frowned. “I don’t have anything for you-“
“Don’t worry about it.” The brunette said lightly, leaning over to plant a soft, innocent kiss on her lips. “Letting me stay the night will be plenty.”
And who could argue with an offer like that?
Come January, we’re frozen inside
Making new resolutions a hundred times
February, won’t you be my valentine?
And if our ‘always’ is all that we gave
And we someday take that away
I’ll be alright if it was just ‘till
St. Patrick’s Day
Lyrics by John Mayer's "St.Patrick's Day"