Mustang was gone for two weeks.

At first, he attempted to continue his work at home. He still visited the crime scene and took Black Hayate for walks but without the obligation of work, he could dedicate more time to following leads. But eventually, he could find no more leads to follow. Everything he found turned out to be a dead end and a voice in his head kept screaming louder and louder for him to move on. He ignored that voice the best he could but he couldn't help but feel as though it was only a matter of time before fate made him accept defeat.

"Here he comes!" whispered Havoc loudly, frantically scrambling back to his desk from the window. The rest of the team attempted to act natural, but it was obvious they were tense. True, Mustang was supposed to have used the two weeks to relax, but there was no telling how he would react to this kind of news, no matter how relaxed he may be.

"M-morning, brigadier general!" stuttered Fuery as Mustang walked through the door.

"Morning all," he responded nonchalantly.

"You're looking well Mustang," noted Breda.

"Thank you, Breda…" murmured Mustang suspiciously. The last time his team had been this attentive and nervous looking had been when the search for Hawkeye had been officially called off. There was something none of them wanted to tell him, but something he needed to know.

"So," he began. "Anything interesting happen while I was gone?"

"Nothing much really," said Falman.

"Yeah, just same old same old, really," added Havoc.

"Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork," said Fuery with a nervous chuckle.

"Okay then," said Mustang as he slowly made his way over to his office. He stopped when he reached Hawkeye's desk, as he had become accustomed to doing. He had fought to keep in in tact, taking it upon himself to keep it free of dust and organized just the way she liked it. But in his absence, someone had cleared it off entirely. The few things she kept on her desk now occupied a box, confirming that everyone had given up hope that she'd be returning.

"Is this why you all are acting so strange?" asked Mustang, gesturing to the desk. "What did you think would happen? I'd burn the place down? Honestly."

"Right sir, how stupid of us," commented Havoc lightly. "I mean, you're fine now, right? You can totally keep your cool."

"Exactly, thank you Havoc," said Roy as he went to pick up the box of Riza's things. He just naturally assumed he'd be the one to take it, seeing as he was still looking after her apartment. He knew he didn't need to ask. "I've accepted I'm in the minority when it comes to continuing the search for Hawkeye, but I won't take out my frustrations on any of you. None of you are to blame for any of this, and I need to keep this place up and running for Hawkeye's sake. If she knew I let anything slip through the cracks in her absence, she'd kill me."

"So, you're fine then?" asked Havoc cautiously. "You're not going to… overreact to anything?"

"Of course not," responded Mustang as if the whole notion was utterly ridiculous. "I've got to keep a level head, and that's exactly what I intend to do."

"All right then sir, just remember to keep that mentality about you no matter what," advised Falman.

"Of course, I'm a man of my word," he said with a laugh. "Havoc, why do you keep looking at the clock? The day's just begun, are you already done for the day?"

"Funny sir, but uh, no not exactly…"

"You got a hot date tonight?"

"Well, yes," admitted Havoc with a small laugh. "But that's not what…"

Before Havoc could finish, a light but firm knock interrupted him. Sheska timidly stuck her head in.

"Hello?" she greeted shyly. "Am I late?"

"Sheska! To what do we owe this pleasure?" greeted Roy.

"Oh, hello brigadier," she said. "Good to see you're back. Um, I have some files for you to sign before the arrival of your new assistant…"

"New assistant?"

"Oh dear," she said. "Does he not know?"

Mustang inhaled deeply, obviously trying to remain calm. "No Sheska, apparently my team neglected to inform me of this surprise…"

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I can come back later!"

"No no, you're already here Sheska, no point in dragging this out," said Mustang as he went to enter his office. "Let's take a look at those files."

"Yes sir!" she said quickly as she rushed in, her arms full of loose papers and books. Mustang shut the door behind them as he set the box of Hawkeye's things under his desk. "Um, there isn't too much for you to do, the fuhrer oversaw the selection process…"

"Oh he did, did he?" asked Mustang as he sat down. "He decided to wait until I was away before making a decision that would greatly affect my team, did he? How very interesting."

"Um…"

"And I assume this new assistant will be occupying Captain Hawkeye's desk?"

"Yes sir, now I just need your signature to keep on file…"

"Because the fuhrer felt I was somehow incapable of doing this sort of thing on my own," continued Mustang on a rant. "He knows my team was hand selected and that Captain Hawkeye, who is his granddaughter, by the way, flesh and blood, is potentially the most crucial part of this operation. Pardon me if I consider her irreplaceable."

"Sir, I understand…"

"How would you feel, Sheska, if you came back from a near death experience, nearly escaping with your life by any means necessary only to find all your closest friends and colleagues have replaced you? Hurt? Betrayed, even? After everything you've done, people just forget about you."

"It doesn't sound very nice, sir."

"No it doesn't, Sheska," agreed Mustang.

"Sir," began Sheska, somewhat uncomfortable. "I didn't know Captain Hawkeye very well, but I always admired her. She was very strong and smart. I know the two of you were close and I can tell her lose has been extremely hard on you. But… if the tables were turned and she was the one dealing with you being gone… well it'd be hard, I'm sure and I know she want to believe you were out there somewhere, but she'd realize that things will change as a result…"

"Sheska, I appreciate the sentiment," interrupted Roy. "But regardless of how everyone else may be reacting to all of this, I know my subordinate and I know she's out there. I just believe it's common courtesy to mourn the dead and not the living. So thank you for the advice…"

"Oh, it wasn't advice sir, it was really more of a distraction…"

"What?" He looked past the nervous young girl and saw someone standing at Hawkeye's desk. He saw the stranger had already made themselves at home, placing several picture frames and other small decoration. It took everything in him not to burst out into the room and demand an explanation, but he knew word would get back to the fuhrer and that would not be good for him. Sheska continued to babble and try to get him to sign off on the whole thing, but Mustang merely stared into the room angrily disliking the whole situation.

"Just leave the forms, Sheska," he said at last. "I'll look them over as soon as I get the chance. Thank you for stopping by."

She nervously took her leave as the brigadier general did not look at her but maintained eye contact with the window that separated him from his team, hands folded under his chin. He knew there was no arguing with Grumman about this, as much as he wanted to, but this was one change in this whole mess that he could not see himself getting used to. He couldn't go out there and make a scene in front of his team and this new assistant, this wasn't their fault, but he wasn't used to feeling this way without her there to talk him down. He decided to look over the forms Sheska brought him, a decision Hawkeye would approve of, no doubt.

Her name was Erika Z. Waye She had been transferred there from a small town not far from Resembool. She had previously been assigned to escorting diplomats from visiting countries, planning their itinerary and processing any paperwork they may need. She was best known for her friendly demeanor, patience, and attention to detail. She was organized. She was quick on her feet. She seemed like the perfect person to be his assistant.

He needed to find a reason to get her transferred.

He decided to avoid her until the transfer went through. He didn't want to put a face to the name and feel guilty. But what could he do? He couldn't have Hawkeye coming back to someone else at her desk. Grumman had already decided Roy needed a team to protect him rather than one bodyguard, but there was little he could do about that in the meantime.

So he put in the request, and did what he could to avoid formally meeting her. She left files on his desk and collected them, but they never spoke or even saw one another her first few days. It was all a tad bit ridiculous, to be perfectly honest.

"So brigadier, how do you like your new assistant?" asked Havoc one day , popping his head in before he took his cigarette break

"I haven't really had the pleasure, to be perfectly honest," commented Mustang, not looking up.

"She's really nice," he insisted "She's always smiling, it's great for morale."

"I'm sure she's great, but I'd really rather not see someone else at Hawkeye's desk."

"I understand that, but I think Captain Hawkeye would like her too," said Havoc sincerely. "She's all about efficiency, plus she brought in cookies the other day!"

"I have no doubt she's a hard worker and a good employee," said Mustang. "But the fact of the matter is my team is full. There are many places she can thrive, but she was brought in to fill a space that is only temporarily empty. So I've requested to have her transferred."

"Are you serious?" he asked, somewhat loudly. "I mean, I know you and Hawkeye had something… unique, but I think she would be disappointed in you."

"Careful, lieutenant…"

"I'm sorry sir, but she was always going on about what a great guy you were and how you had all this potential and great ideas and she was willing to do anything to get you to the top, but it's like you don't even care. You're just stuck, and it's pathetic. Sorry boss, but it's the truth."

Havoc's words rang in his ears for a long while. It was nothing new, there wasn't a single person who hadn't said something similar to him since the incident. But the time of sparing his feelings was fading, and people were less sensitive as they saw his stubbornness less endearing and more pathetic. Avoiding change was so easy before because he could simply preserve her things and her memory, but now there was someone stepping in who was concrete proof that she was really gone and she may not come back.

So this time, when she knocked on his door he didn't tell her to come back later or pretend to be one the phone.

"Well hello sir," her voice was chipper and light. "It's been a crazy couple of weeks, hasn't it? I feel as though we keep missing each other! I know you're a busy man, but I must say it's a pleasure to formally meet you."

"Likewise," responded Mustang quietly, attempting to seem welcoming to the woman before him. She knew he was avoiding her, but she was being polite. He didn't deserve her. "Is there um… something I can help you with?"

"Oh, I just have some files for you from the fuhrer," she said with a smile. Her dark red hair fell just past her ears and curled outward, kept out of her face by a simple headband. She wore a pair of simple glasses, large black frames that drew attention to her big brown eyes. Her eyes seemed to smile even when her face was resting, she was overall a very approachable and trustworthy looking person. She was vibrant, to say the least. "If you could fill them out as soon as possible, that'd be fantastic."

"Of course," he said, clearing his throat. He suddenly felt incredibly stupid for avoiding her all this time, surely it made her job very difficult. "Right away."

She stood across from him, tilting her head to the side and smiling, gently taping her foot.

"Is there something else I can help you with Miss Waye?"

"Erika is fine," she said. "I'm just waiting on those forms."

"The ones you just brought?"

"Yes sir, I see no reason why we need to put it off," she said with a light laugh.

"Well, okay then Erika," he said as he took out his pen to sign them. Erika shifted her weight back and forth as she waited in silence.

"That's a lovely picture," she said when he was nearly done. He looked up and saw she was referring to the picture of Hawkeye, the one Grumman had given him.

"Uh, thank you,"

"Is that your wife?"

"Um, not exactly," he said absentmindedly, not really listening. Then he realized what she had said. "I mean, no, no. She's a friend, a coworker. She's a captain here, you'll probably meet her soon."

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume…" she said, embarrassed.

"No it's fine," insisted Mustang with a small laugh. "It, uh, happens more than you think actually. We've known each practically our whole lives, I should be honored to have strangers think I'm her husband. She's out of my league."

"That's sweet," said Erika. "Oh, and she has a dog? Oh, I love dogs!"

"Uh, yeah. She's crazy about that little guy. I'm looking after Black Hayate at the moment, but I'm no Hawkeye."

The smile vanished from her face. "Oh, that's captain Hawkeye? Oh, I'm so sorry sir, I had no idea."

"Why? Oh, you must mean- look, I don't know what you've heard or what you think you've heard, but please don't do what everybody else has done. I don't need any more pity or shots at how I've responded to this. Despite what everyone may be saying, please don't see me as some kind of pathetic fool for not believing she's dead."

"Sir, I could never," she said gently. "It's not my place to pass any judgement. So long as it doesn't affect your work, I see no harm. Though, if you should decide you need someone to talk to, I'd be more than happy to offer an ear."

"Oh," he began, somewhat surprised. "Well, that's very kind of you. Thank you."

She smiled at him. "Anytime, sir," she said as she gathered the papers from his desk. "I look forward to working with you."

"And I, you," he watched he make her way out of his office, holding the files closely to her chest.

She's a fine young woman, he thought to himself. Perhaps we can find a place for her here after all.