TOY SOLDIERS

Author’s Note: When I heard the old 80’s song “Toy Soldiers” on the radio yesterday, I immediately evolved a plot in my mind, which became the following story.

Sorry if the songfic-bit truly bothers you, I apologize (and completely understand). I do, however, plead with you to at least give this story a chance as I am actually rather happy with it -_^ !! And, if you don’t take a completely nazi stance on the whole downloading MP3s debate, I recommend you download the song (it is sung by Martika) and listen to it while you read, as that is how I wrote it.
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TOY SOLDIERS
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Only emptiness remains…
It replaces all of the pain

Won’t you come out and play with me?

Step by step, heart to heart
Left, right, left
We all fall down
Like toy soldiers…
Bit by bit, torn apart
Never win
But the battle wages on
For toy soldiers…


He hadn’t spoken since the two of them had left the cemetery. She knew that in spite of his composed exterior, Colonel Mustang was hurting more than even she, his loyal Lieutenant, could see.

Today, he had buried his long-time friend and confidant, Maes Hughes.

Riza had never felt so entirely useless as she did watching the Colonel stare out the window of the moving vehicle. Before, when she had gently inquired into his emotional state, Mustang had asked her in his own way not to press the matter. It was her job to obey his commands and so she was doing. If he wished for a companionable silence, then that was what she would offer him.

But, she just could not leave him off to wallow alone in his empty apartment. It was not in Hawkeye’s nature to abandon a situation in which her assistance was so obviously required. And as it happened, it was the Colonel in whom Lieutenant Hawkeye had found her definitive calling to serve. This particularly poignant moment was no different than any other for Riza. She felt she had to provide some sort of help to her Colonel.

“We’re here, Colonel,” Hawkeye said, following as he got out of the transport and headed to his apartment door.

“You don’t have to follow me, Hawkeye. I’ll be fine,” he said, in a low tone as he opened the door and stepped inside the dimly lit studio dwelling.

Riza merely ignored his statement; she knew he didn’t really want her to leave. “Nonsense, sir,” she said, walking past him and into his home. “I’ll prepare you some tea, if you’d like to change clothes or shower.”

He sighed, “Very well,” and headed into his bathroom as Hawkeye removed her military jacket and went into his kitchen.

Riza went through several empty cabinets before she found one that looked to contain the whole of Mustang’s sustenance: a canister of coffee, a box of tea and a carton of cereal. She sighed, thinking how like her own apartment his was. Both served more as home bases than homes.

She quickly went about making a fresh pot of hot tea. But, it wasn’t long before she heard the bathroom door open softly. As she poured the steaming liquid into one of only two mugs that he appeared to own, Riza heard the telltale sound of shifting mattress springs.

Walking back out of the kitchen, she saw that Roy had laid down on his bed, his back to her. He had obviously opted not to change out of his uniform, though like her, he had removed his dress jacket. The only visible movement was of his slow, regular breathing.

Riza sighed, set the mug down on his table and proceeded to walk to the side of the bed nearest her. She looked down at his back, noting the way his white dress shirt tightened across it each time he silently inhaled. It was heartbreaking, seeing his pain so keenly but not knowing how to remedy it.

Deciding she had to take some sort of action, Hawkeye quietly pulled off her boots and climbed onto the bed behind him. Scooting up to press herself lightly against his back, Riza snaked an arm gently under his to rest her hand over his heart.

She knew that according to military regulations the action was particularly inappropriate, not to mention completely insubordinate. But, some how it seemed the most fitting thing to do. Roy Mustang had lost the most important person in his life. Her Colonel needed companionship, some sort of human connection, whether he would admit it aloud or not.

“You have such strength and vision in this heart, Colonel,” the Lieutenant sympathetically assured him.

He sighed, then took her hand in his, pressing it to his muscled chest more firmly. The two of them lay in silence for what felt like hours. After Mustang seemed to have drifted into a light slumber, Hawkeye decided that it would be prudent to get up and throw out the undoubtedly cold tea. But as she moved away, pulling her hand from his, he took hold of it once again and turned to lie on his back, gazing at her.

“Don’t,” Roy said, his eyes pleading for her to stay.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Riza sat back down on the bed. Then, with a warm smile lighting briefly upon her stoic face, she answered, “Yes, sir.”

He sighed and looked down at her hand in his. “Riza, if I have abused our relationship too much in the past…” Roy said, pausing to look uncertainly into her eyes, “to be so bold as to ask you for a favor…”

“There is nothing you couldn’t ask of me, sir,” Hawkeye replied meaningfully as she leaned down to look him directly in the eye.

Mustang’s jaw tightened in a slight frown, unwanted tears filling his eyes as her loyalty once again reminded him of Hughes. He didn’t know how to ask her for what he needed. She was his subordinate, his aide. Roy Mustang may have been able to take advantage of any number of the anonymous women he got involved with, but Riza Hawkeye…

She gazed at him knowingly, and before he knew it, she had brushed her lips against his. This, heaped on top of the day’s events, was all Mustang could take. He released her hand and pulled her to the bed, beneath him.


It wasn’t my intention to mislead you
It never should have been this way
What can I say?
It’s true; I did extend the invitation
I never knew how long you’d stay

When you hear temptation call
It’s your heart that takes…takes the fall

Won’t you come out and play with me?

Step by step, heart to heart
Left, right, left
We all fall down
Like toy soldiers…
Bit by bit, torn apart
Never win
But the battle wages on
For toy soldiers…


Though Riza had little experience in this arena, she was more than willing to provide Roy with any comfort that she could. Whether she had acknowledged it before this moment or not, she was in love with her Colonel. It wasn’t by any means conventional and it would certainly never be easy, but she couldn’t deny it …or herself… any longer.

He kissed her, forcefully pouring his heart’s pain into the woman beneath him. Roy knew that an unspoken covenant had been made between the two of them. And though he hadn’t told her, and in all honesty probably never would, there was no other woman on earth he wanted to be with more than she. Riza was steadfast to him in a way no other ever could be.

Gently pushing her wrists into his pillows, Roy moved his tormented kisses from her pliant mouth, down along her jaw line, and on to her trembling neck. This is what he needed; he needed her. It was no longer about a leader and his lieutenant. In the shadows of his dismal apartment, it was only a shattered man taking solace in the enduring devotion of a woman.

Hawkeye gasped slightly as he pressed himself into her, his hardness evident even through the layers of clothing. He groaned her name into her neck, his breath sultry against her skin. It was all so new and fantastically arousing. Her legs seemed to move of their own accord, shifting to encircle his hips as those infamous hands of his slid slowly down her arms to her breasts. While his kisses were firm and intense, Mustang’s fingers seemed to touch her almost reverently. The care with which he slid her brown shirt off her body and the feather-light caresses that followed, sent a deluge of shivers through her torso. Guiltily, Hawkeye’s conscience reminded her that she wasn’t the one who was supposed to be receiving this pleasure. That was what she should’ve been giving him.

Lifting her own hands to him, fingers shaky with uncharacteristic timidity, Riza took hold of his shirt and pulled it loose from his pants. She slid her warm hands up his back, feeling the muscles there flinch slightly under her touch. It was sinful, how talented those fingers and that mouth of his were on her. While she had fumbled with his shirt, Mustang had nimbly removed her simple bra and was proceeding to adorn her sensitive flesh with more of his powerful kisses. She knew at that moment that the Colonel was entirely out of her league and wondered how she could even begin to placate his needs.

“Colonel,” she sighed, pulling her hands from his shirt to run then through his slick dark hair. He stopped rather abruptly and looked up at her. Riza returned his gaze evocatively, acutely aware that Mustang had an uncanny ability to read people. And at that second, the Lieutenant was positive that he could read her hesitation and no longer wished to carry on with such an under-qualified individual. “Colonel, I don’t know if I am the right person to…”

“Roy,” he interrupted. “Please call me Roy, Hawkeye,” he said, leaning down to kiss her once again. Her lips warred briefly with his, battling for dominion of her mouth before he claimed it, possessively massaging his tongue against hers. When Mustang finally released her for a much-needed gasp of breath, he moved back to kiss gently below her ear. As Hawkeye panted, overcome by the heady haze of arousal surrounding the two of them, she almost missed him whispering longingly into the delicate shell of her ear, “Please, Riza, say my name. I want to hear it… from your mouth.”

She was taken aback for a moment by the fragility in the Colonel’s voice. He wanted to hear her say his name? The only person she’d ever heard actually refer to this man by his given name had been Hughes. Just as she was about to ponder the implications of his request, his mouth found its way back to her breasts.

“…Roy,” she whimpered at the renewed sensation. The name felt foreign on her tongue, but not unpleasant. As she warmed to the sensation, Riza suddenly had the overwhelming desire to feel his skin against hers. She slid her hands up his torso and began to unbutton his pristine shirt.

Hearing her pleading voice and sensing her trembling hands, Roy simply slid the half-unbuttoned garment over his head. He was ready for this to proceed at a much quicker pace. As swiftly as he could manage, Mustang divested himself and Riza of the rest of the impeding clothing. When he looked back down at her, he found that she was looking back at him, those gorgeous cinnamon eyes filled with desire, compassion and trust. Trust… she trusted him.

“Roy?” Riza asked, warily stroking his shoulders.

The sound of her calling out for him, in his dreary apartment… in his pathetic small bed… in his weak arms… suddenly brought the reality of what was happening fully into focus. He turned his head, clamping his eyes shut. He shouldn’t be doing this. Not to her. It was all wrong. Everything in his life seemed to be so wrong.

“Riza… Why?” was all he could ask, turning to look back at her.

Her look softened as she said, “As I said, there is nothing you could not ask of me.” She ran her hands down to the small of his bare back and pulled him flush against her, “I want to help lighten the burden that you carry around on this back. Please… let me give you this, Roy.”

He couldn’t fight the longing he felt as she pleaded with him. Leaning down to capture her mouth in an impassioned kiss, he gave himself over to the need. Sliding his hands up Riza’s toned thighs, he spread her legs apart to accommodate his body. Her own was emitting such heat that Roy felt as though he would lose what little sanity he still held claim to if he didn’t take her.

Then he felt her small warm hand take hold of him, guiding him into position, and he did lose it. He plunged forward into Riza, assuaging his pain and emptiness in one swift stroke. He held for a moment relishing the feeling; she couldn’t have felt more perfect around him, even in his dreams. It was then that he noticed it. Hawkeye was breathing in the sort of short, labored breaths that generally signaled pain. Turning his surprised gaze to her, Roy suddenly understood.

“Riza…” he said, pressing his forehead to hers while trying to ignore how his body begged for him to continue. “I didn’t know. Are you all right?”

She sighed and stared up at him. “I will be. If you’d start moving,” Hawkeye said with a short kiss as she hooked her feet around his behind, no semblance of discomfort left on her face. This was about his pain, not hers. And, she wanted him to let it all go. “Come on,” she urged.

Roy groaned into her neck as she tightened her legs around him. This was it; this was what he had been in need of all day. A reminder that he was, indeed, still human. He hadn’t lost that just yet. All the orders and the killing and the losses and everything… the pieces of his ruined ideals just faded in the heat of this woman’s body. All he had to worry about was only their shared gratification and no one else’s.

He thrust, voraciously claiming her willing body over and over again. And, Riza was beginning to understand what the fuss was all about. The Colonel was tremendously talented, it seemed, at everything he did. She felt as though, with each snap of his hips against hers, that he was winding some invisible cord tighter and tighter within her body. His name, only moments ago so alien to speak, became a sort of holy mantra for Riza.

“Roy, Roy, Roy,” she muttered into his shoulder. Hawkeye knew she was close. Close enough she could almost feel it like the newly formed beads of sweat on his neck. She wound her hands into his mass of ebony hair, gasping as he drove into her even harder.

Roy, too, was close to climaxing. In the back of his mind, he was wishing that he’d had the mentality to pleasure his lovely Hawkeye into a stimulated frenzy before taking her, like she so deserved. But there was not time for that now. Now, all he knew was that he had to enjoy every second he had with her. Sensing that her body was on the verge of convulsion, he sped his movements.

Seconds later, Riza’s head fell back in a silent scream. It was as though, in that brief moment, the world had shattered into millions of tiny white molecules. She could neither control her mind nor her body as she quivered fiercely beneath Mustang. The only thing Riza did register was Roy moaning her name as he joined her in a climactic dance as old as time itself.

When the two had regained some of their composure, the Colonel moved partially off to Riza’s side. He rested his head on her chest, just below her chin, not able to look her in the eyes just yet. Hawkeye was content just to hold him to her and caress his back as soothingly as she could. On the windows was heard the beginnings of a thunderstorm.

He sighed and for the second time that day, he said, “It’s raining…”

Riza stroked his hair and nodded thoughtfully. After a while, she felt the tension drain from him as his breathing became regular once again, and she knew he’d finally fallen asleep. Deciding it was safe for her to do the same, she let her eyes slide shut. She would worry about how to proceed from here tomorrow.


It’s getting hard to wake up in the morning
My head is spinning constantly
How could it be?
How could I be so blind to this addiction?
If I am strong the next one is gonna be me

Only emptiness remains
It replaces all of the pain…

Won’t you come out and play with me?

Step by step, heart to heart
Left, right, left
We all fall down
Like toy soldiers…
Bit by bit, torn apart
Never win
But the battle wages on
For toy soldiers…


Mustang woke up feeling more secure than he had in days. It was then that the previous evening’s events rushed back through his mind. He sighed in thought. When would the world change? When would the death end? He looked over to Hawkeye and suddenly his mind was awash with all the old familiar principles of idealism and responsibility. This was why he had to get to the top, to protect people like her. His resolve had faltered greatly with Maes’s death. But, as he pondered the remarkable constancy of his Lieutenant, Colonel Mustang’s resolution in becoming the future Fuehrer had been fortified. For now, the battle would carry on…



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Closing Note: Don’t know if anyone noticed or not, but I feel I must mention it to guard my own principles on plagiarism. You’d have to be a complete 80’s movie freak like myself to have noticed, but the line when Roy mentions abusing his relationship with Riza was one Rob Lowe said to Mare Winningham in the Brat-Pack flick, St. Elmo’s Fire. It just fit so beautifully as, on emotional level, those two characters’ relationship with one another is not too dissimilar to that of Roy and Riza.