A young woman in the navy blue uniform of Amestris set down a large stack of papers on the Colonel's desk. She was right on time, as usual. This girl was a perfectionist.

"Colonel Mustard, sir! Today's papers requiring your signature for acknowledgment, they've been sorted to reflect their priority. Perhaps you would care to sign them now rather than later, for the sake of expediency."

...her voice trailed away. Col Mustard was not listening to what Leftenant Dove-eye was saying.

'Dear god! Protecting the state all the time is hard work. Maintaining the right posture is the hardest part. So many papers to sign, let alone read or understand. My back is killing me…'

Mustard arched his back and heard his spine cracking. So satisfying!

"Sir?"

He stretched his arms and yawned. It couldn't be helped! He'd had a sleepless night and had just barely made it to his desk before Dove-eye showed up.

"Don't worry, leftenant. I'll have these papers out of here in no time." He waved at her, expecting her to go away.

Riza did not believe him for a moment. She was getting fed up with him for leaving the papers to the last minute every day for the past week. She stepped forward to confront him.

"Colonel," she began

"Lisa," he countered

She wanted to smack that idiotic grin plastered on his face, she wanted to pull on his ears and make him say 'uncle'.

Instead she restrained her urges as usual: "You have an appointment at three o' clock today. I will remind you ten minutes prior."

"Thank you, leftenant. Would you like some coffee? I'll go make a batch right now." He winked at her.

The hours flew by uneventfully. The only reason Col. Mustard stayed awake was due to Leftenant Dove-eye's presence at his side. It began to grate on his nerves, being watched by this stern woman daily, whom he feared, some day, would discover his utter incompetence at his burocratic duties: actually, his incompetence at everything, including flame alchemy.

"Ten minutes, sir-" she whispered into his ears as he was about to nod off. "Wh-ah oh yes! Thank you leftenant," Mustard said as he straightened his posture.

The door opened and a slender, middle-aged woman in a green, formal dress and skirt walked up to his desk. This woman had a minor resemblence to a certain Juliet Douglas of Fuhrer Bradley's former administration. A mere coincidence! Nothing Sinister.

"Colonel Mustang, it's a pleasure to see you again, shall we get started?" The renowned psychiatrist employed by the state, Dr. Emilia, asked the colonel.

"Yes, of course, doctor. Leftenant?" He gestured to Hawk-eye to read the notes she had.

"Since the initiative code-named L.A.X, we have reported a three percent rise in troop morale and a four percent rise in concentration. This is a statistically significant increase from the previous-"

She held up her hand. "Oh please, lieutenant, forgive the intrusion. I thought we might try a different approach today. Why don't you step into my office, Colonel?"

"Doctor?" Colonel Mustard drooped his posture and looked to Leftenant Dove-eye for guidance. She avoided his gaze intently.

Col. Mustard shrugged and followed the renowned psychiatrist to her office.

"Lie down, Colonel. Your back must be sore from sitting at that rigid desk all day," Dr. Emilia motioned to the sofa in front of her desk.

"I'm fine this way, Dr." He stood, rigid as a tree trunk.

Dr. Emilia spoke up: "As you must be aware, I've sent many notices to your office regarding the surveys your unit has taken to gauge mental health and psychological propriety in the military."

Colonel Mustard frantically searched in his mind for these notices and drew a blank. He offered Dr. Emilia a cordial smile and hoped she wouldn't notice his blank expression.

"Well, Colonel, let's get down to the nitty gritty. Your unit scored among the worst in all of the units that took the test. Everyone in your unit appears to be suffering from acute stress, lack of direction and ambivalence. Our Fuhrer Grumman, who has led the state ever since the deposition of king Bradley, has asked me personally to reverse this disturbing trend in your unit."

"What?! But the L.A.X initiative!"

Dr. Emilia chuckled. "Colonel, you can't seriously expect your unit to allay stress by ordering everyone to call each other silly names. What do they call you now?"

"Colonel Soy Mustard," he hung his head low and sat down on the couch. "Hawk-eye is now Dove-eye. Havok, we call him captain hook, Breda is Brie cheese, Fuery is, what's his new nickname?"

"Colonel, I'm sensing that there's a deeper problem lying beneath this whole charade. What do you really think of them? Of your subordinates?"

"They're-they're excellent soldiers, ma'am."

She sighed. "You can trust me, Colonel. Nothing you say leaves this room."

Colonel Mustard lay down on his back. "It's just that, we've fought hard to defeat all the enemies that have risen against the state. We've kept this country safe against all odds. But now, in peacetime, we've all trying to adjust to this strange stillness in the air."

"We must perform our duties no matter what. But ever since those Elric brothers took off, it feels like the story's over. So what are we doing here exactly? Ya know?" Mustard waxed on philosophically

"It's not just a job, it's our life! Everyday we receive orders and obey, everyday the same rigid statutes and blank faces. Military service takes its toll on our everyday whims and wishes. I can't remember the last time I wasn't on call 24 hours for emergencies."

"You're saying, you don't have room to be yourselves, Colonel?"

Colonel Mustard suddenly jumped up with a spark in his eyes. "Yes, that must be it! Thank you, doctor Emilia! I would kiss you, but you know, military regulations, ha ha!" He spun her around as though they were ball-room dancing. "I'll have Hawk-eye send you a bouquet of flowers, we're cured thanks to your diagnosis!"

"Colonel-let go, Colonel!"

"Well lots to do, papers to sign, higher ups to chat up, emergencies to avoid, gotta go!" Colonel Mustard grinned like a maniac and rushed out the door.

"How was the meeting?" Leftenant Dove-eye asked Col. Mustard.
"Oh, fairly uneventful. She means well, Dr. Emilia. And she dresses well, too." he replied with a smirk.

"The papers, sir. You've still got a few left before the day is done." Leftenant Dove-eye nearly slammed them onto his hand.

"Hey, careful, that's the other hand I use!" He dodged the papers and saw the icy expression on her face. "Oh, man, what'd I do this time?" he thought to himself.

"Colonel Mustard, sir-"she imagined herself pinning him to his desk, and forcing his hand to sign the papers one by one.

A knock on the door interrupted the tension. "Colonel! May I come in?" An elderly gentleman's voice rang from the other side of the door.

"Yes of course!" Mustard got up quickly and opened the door for Furher Grumman.

"Colonel, it's getting late and I wanted to speak with you before you punched out for the day," Fuhrer Grumman said.

"Oh? I'm all ears Fuhrer!" Col. Mustard straightened his back.

Grumman sighed. "You don't have to call me that in private, Mustang. Oh, Lieutenant Hawkeye, you're still here? I'd like to speak with Mustang in private if you don't mind, there's nothing wrong, mind you- just some minor affairs."

Lieutenant Hawkeye gave a salute and briskly walked out the door. Before she closed the door, she shot a glance at Mustang, as if to say, "We'll settle this later..."

Mustang looked back to the Fuhrer. "To what do I owe this pleasure, Fuhrer Grumman?" Mustang walked to his desk to pour Grumman a drink.

"Ah, Mustang, we go back a long way, don't we? I was your mentor in the academy, you were my most trustworthy confidante, we had a great rapport and we worked well together."

"Sir?" Mustang handed Grumman a cup of brewed tea.

"This business with the Elrics, it's all in the past. You paid a dear cost to restore a righteous peace back to the nation. You've fought hard for nearly two decades in the military."

"Twenty years should be only a fraction of the years I intend to give in service to Amestris," Mustang replied.

Grumman shook his head and set down his cup. "I'll get to the point then. There's never been a better time for you to pursue your own interests. This is peacetime and we intend to ramp down the militarization of the country over the next few years. Under Fuhrer Bradley, countless wars have been fought for the sake of spilling blood to create the philosopher's stone. I cannot allow the military to dictate the nation's affairs in this way any longer."

"But sir, without a strong military, our enemies will take advantage of our diminished strength."

"Our strength comes at a huge cost, you know. Everyone around us fears Amestris because we're strong. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about, Mustang."

"You've given enough sweat and blood to the military, son. Retire as a decorated veteran, while you're still young. Pursue your own interests, take up gardening, get acquainted with civilian life. Enjoy this precious peace."

"Being a soldier is all I've ever known, sir. Military service is a pledge of honor for life," Mustang stood firm.

"Then take a break, damn it! Mustang, your men are stretched to the limit right now. This peacetime is sapping into their morale, they've got nothing to do all day but hold the same drills and perform the same routines. The other day, Lieutenant Falman pranked Sergeant Fuery and turned the whole barracks into a laughingstock."

"I'll be sure to discipline the lot of them tomorrow!" Mustang saluted and hoped the conversation would end.

Grumman laughed. "After all this time, Why do you still want to be fuhrer so badly?" Grumman asked Mustang.

"My motivations have changed ever since the Elric brothers left," Mustang replied. "Now, I just want to stay by my friends."

"That's a terrible reason to continue like this, you know. We've mandated a rotation of official duties to lessen the burden on seasoned officers. This is also to prevent the entrenchment of factions and cliques within the military hierarchy."

"So what're you saying, sir?"

"Retire, you idiot, and go live your life! There's never been a more peaceful time in living memory. Marry for love, start a family, tend to your garden before it's too late. Alchemy cannot bring back lost time. I see such loyalty and admiration in your subordinates. You would be a popular man anywhere you went if only you freed yourself from service."

Mustang had no reply for his superior officer. His face fell and he sat down.

"I confess, Mustang, I had an ulterior motive for asking you to step down. I was hoping to play matchmaker with you and another woman in the military who seems to have a bit of an attraction towards you."

"I just don't know-this is all so sudden, sir. It's a lot to take in."

Grumman gritted his teeth. "You're killing me, colonel. This entire unit will be disbanded soon, I just thought you should know as a courtesy before that happens."

Mustang felt the room spinning around him, he could hardly see straight. Discharged? But where would he go?! the military is all he knows!

"Take this number, Mustang. Call it, get yourself a date and see where it leads!"
Grumman stuffed a small piece of paper in between Mustang's hands, which were buried beneath his face. "And for god's sake man, cheer up! Peace is a precious commodity, enjoy it while it lasts!" And with that, old Fuhrer Grumman walked out the door.