Papers, papers, photographs of wanted criminals, and more papers. Granted, she loved reading, but having to do so much in so little time... It was a wonder Sheska didn't simply collapse.
Some days it was easier to concentrate when it came to work, while some were equally difficult. She dreaded those days. Her job was to file criminal related articles for the military, not look at photographs of little girls in bathing suits!
Thinking of such, Sheska sighed as she heard the entrance of one Maes Hughes. No doubt to flaunt about his daughter again. Elysia was adorable and all, but Sheska could only take so much...
"How are you today, Sheska? Not too busy, are you?"
How could he be so happy all the time?
Sheska tried not to, but she sighed before answering. "I'm fine, Sir. And you?" She didn't look up from her work; the papers had been piling up recently and she didn't want to neglect them.
"I'm great, in fact..." She heard the sound of something shuffling. She dreaded that sound when it was associated with Hughes and his photograph collection. However... "Here you go, some new files for you to work on so you don't get bored."
Pictures would have been better. Instead she had twelve, large, new files to spend her time on.
"Thank you, Sir..."
Twelve weighty files...
a brief note, yo: These have no timeline, whatsoever, aaand... some of them are kinda weird because of the numbers. Keep that in mind, ya? These aremostly for my amusement, and a bit for yours. Mostly mine, though. Tu n'aime pas, fine, go ahead and n'aime pas. Constructive critism is nice. It hurts, way down, but it's nice, and makes me a better writer, which I like. Oui, j'aime la. ((Anyone who speaks French, forgive me if my rudimentary French skills murder you withtheir patheticness))
a brief disclaimer: I don't own FMA, nor do I own Christmas, or the Twelve Days of Christmas song. I should hope that's pretty obvious.