Small chapters, one each day. This will almost entirely focus on Riza and Roy. I don't own FMA. Set five years after the Promised Day.
She was late to work. Her empty desk occupied more presence in the room than her attendance might have, and Mustang was most bothered at her tardiness. It isn't easy for men in power to mind their patience when kept waiting so he passed the time by imagining what a hurry she must be in. He pictured her across town throwing on her uniform, sloppily putting up her hair as she ran out the door, fidgeting with the keys to lock the door while balancing breakfast in one hand and paperwork in the other. Perhaps Black Hayate would have to wait for his kibble until after work, or maybe she would still be trying to tuck in her shirt as she scurried down the sidewalk.
As each tiredly carried out their work, the other soldiers seemed less preoccupied with the situation. They had stacks of paperwork that made their old assignments with Mustang look like playtime, but that was what they expected when they agreed to work under the Flame Alchemist after he became Fuhrer. Although they were honored to be so close in office to their country's leader, the new assignment was admittedly pretty dogged. On a daily basis they were behind a desk way more than they ever saw action in the field and even felt useless at times, like they had already fought their great battle and the rest of their lives held too little meaning. But they were paid well for the work they did under Fuhrer Mustang.
Still, the battle on the Promised Day five years ago felt like an eternity. A soldier's job is to defend and fight, nowadays they seem to be of very little relevance. Roy's team helped push him to the top, they fought in the battles against the homunculi, and now the game is over. What are the knight, rook, bishop, and queen to do after the king has won? For the past five years they have waited. And watched. And sat in their desks, filing papers, wondered what comes next.
"Sir," Havoc barked to Mustang from the edge of the Fuhrer's oak desk.
Roy turned from the window, distracted from his musings of Lieutenant Hawkeye, "Yes, what is it, Havoc?"
"I need to speak to you about my letter of resignation," Havoc wasn't surprised by the discontented expression Mustang's face fell to and decided to explain. "It's time to find a new adventure, sir. I mean, the old days were great and you know I'd have done anything I could've to help you. But you've made it now and you don't need me anymore. You can get someone better to do the job I have right now. My heart's just not into it anymore. You understand, sir."
Roy tried to offer a field position and rearrange his assignment, but Havoc insisted on leaving. By eleven o'clock he had officially submitted the forms and was working his last two weeks under the nostalgic air of his superior and his colleagues. All four went to lunch at the bistro across the street for a while before returning and finding that Hawkeye had still failed to show.