Alright...here's a potential last chapter?

Disclaimer: Don't own. Never will.

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Roy Mustang awoke to something…or so to say, more than one something , jabbing him in the face.

He lifted his head, blinking drowsily as he tried to discern what was being thrown at him.

His vision coming into focus, he realized that it was Jean Havoc who was the culprit, accused of throwing sharp pointed paper airplanes at him from across his desk.

Havoc shifted his trademark cigarette from one side of his mouth to the other, grinning a bit.

"Wake up, Colonel. It's past noon." Havoc said, smirking .

Roy shot the Second Lieutenant a glare then averted his attention to the mounds of paperwork that littered his desk.

Havoc looked at the Colonel's desk, shaking his head in awe. "Not sure how you still keep your job with all this crap on top of your desk," he said as he stood to peruse through the paperwork that Roy always neglected until the last minute.

"Hey Colonel, this doesn't look like your usual crap fanmail . What is it?" He asked, tossing a rather thick envelope that he had found at Roy.

Roy caught it, not wanting a stray corner to smack him in the forehead.

Looking on the front, Roy found a small message : Here's your money, Colonel. Have fun. –Afey Stryke

Roy raised an eyebrow in surprise.

Curious, Roy opened the letter to find that it contained a large sum of money.

Havoc leaned over Roy's shoulder, whistling in agreement with Roy's shock.

"That's a bunch of money. Where'd it come from?" Havoc asked as he straightened.

Roy shook his head, frowning. "From a sixteen year old teenager…Second Lieutenant, go find First Lieutenant Hawkeye. Tell her I need her."

Havoc saluted lazily, once more shifting his cigarette from one side of his mouth to the other as he shuffled out of Roy's office.

A few moments later, a woman came into his office, saluting him with her right hand, a clipboard held under her left arm.

"Yes Sir?" The woman asked.

"First Lieutenant Hawkeye, I need you to find out as much information as you can about an Afey Stryke. Age 16." Roy said briskly.

Hawkeye nodded. "Might I ask why, Sir?" She inquired.

Roy glanced back down at the envelope. "She's making me suspicious…she paid off a huge fine in two days…That isn't normal for a 16 year old. Investigate it for me."

Hawkeye saluted again then turned on her heel, walking out of the office, shutting the door behind her.

Roy watched her go then sighed. Afey Stryke…he wanted to know more about her. Where she got the money from…

With those thoughts swirling throughout his mind, Mustang let his forehead hit a small stack of papers, once again asleep, his work still not finished.

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And this , my friends, is the end of the line.

14 chapters later and this poor little fic is just too dead to go on.

If I get requests for a continuation of this, I might consider digging the plot out of my head again. But if not, it'll just sit here. Poor, poor fic.