I have no idea how I'm doing all of this. Has anyone else had a day like this; can't stop writing?

And, BloodLily16, consider this retribution for all the reviews you've posted and not letting me get in touch to thank you: public gratitude.

Thank you, oh so much, to BloodLily16 for all the follows, favourites and reviews she has left me on my stories. And thank you for favouriting this story as well! I think everyone should help in the noble cause for your acknowledgement as a good reader by adding their thanks in reviews!

Bad Things To Say/Hear In Your First Week In The Military Police Department:

It was Maes Hughes's first proper mission as part of the military police. They had been sent to investigate reports about one of the State Alchemists in the area. Allegedly, she had been participating in black magic rituals.

Hughes blinked, then re-read the briefing. Black… magic…? That was not something you saw every day, not even in Central where all of the strangest people seemed to congregate.

The raid went well; she didn't let them in, so they had to force the door open. Guns held at the ready and so on, they moved through the too-quiet house until they reached an anteroom filled with dried herbs hanging from the rafters, drippy candles, pentagrams and other various occult symbols. There was movement near the floor and, nervously, Hughes swung his gun to follow it. But, luckily, before he could shoot it, he realised it was not some kind of chimera or ungodly animal, but a cat. Well, depending on who you asked it wasn't some kind of ungodly animal, but Maes Hughes had always secretly nursed a strong dislike of the fluffy little demons.

They cautiously moved across the room until they reached the door where, supposedly, the target was, and they pushed it open.

It all went downhill from there and, long story short, the whole team ended up fleeing from the house after a failed attempt at arrest. And so, here he was, trying to explain to his CO just what had happened.

"Well, sir, I was going to arrest her, but I kinda lost my courage when she started making weird shapes in the air and screeching 'I'll put a curse on ya!'."

His commanding officer, it was fairly safe to say, was not amused and Hughes could not help but think nostalgically of the creative punishments he and Roy had earned while in the Academy as he got to peeling potatoes for the whole brigade, slicing off parts of his skin every so often.

LineBreakLineBreak

It was the sacred break time. Hughes's unit was in the shared break room, sipping coffee and eating biscuits dunked in said coffee when it happened.

Normally, there would be complete peace on the radio – and phone system – at that time, due to a lack of gushing over a certain Lt. Colonel's wife and daughter. That day, however, was entirely different.

Some crazy alchemist had managed to transmute the mother of all flies. The radios were going crazy and one poor Private – Sam Brier – had to listen to the insanity being blasted right into his ears via headphones.

"There's a giant fly attack in the break room!"

"Someone call a SWAT team!"

"And quickly; before the Lieutenant Colonel comes out waving his photos around!"

As he was slamming his head repeatedly on the table in front of him, the Private felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry," the old hand told him, "You get used to it. Well, either that or you turn insane. Either way, you'll fit in."

LineBreakLineBreak

It had, all in all, been a very tough case and they finally had an eyewitness to one of the crimes perpetrated by the mugger. They had rounded up a list of suspects who fit the psychological and physical profile.

"So, do you know how this goes?" Private Brier asked the man he was escorting.

"Yes, yes. I know how an identity parade works. You don't need to tell me."

They had all of the suspects lined up and the witness stepped forwards, into the view of the suspects.

"That's her! That's her! That's the woman I mugged!"

LineBreakLineBreak

The whole department was rushed off their feet. Not only was a certain Ishbalan serial killer on the loose, but there had been a crime-wave locally and no-one had any spare time any more. Even Hughes had to cut back the time he spent calling Colonel Mustang out East to gush over Gracia and Elicia!

The frustration, the irritation, the tiredness, the forced insomnia: it all came to a head early one Wednesday afternoon.

"I know it's unlikely, but no-one's handed in Scar, have they?"

The joke had been made many times before, but this was the first time a man got hoisted up to the top of the base's flagpole for it.

LineBreakLineBreak

To be honest, no-one had much liked the most recent murder victim. The man was unpleasant for co-workers, subordinates and superiors alike. It was a surprise the man had made it to captain, but those, Hughes thought, were no reason for Second Lieutenant Hurse to say what he had to the captured killer.

"I am charging you with the murder of Captain James Jones. That'll be fifty sens!"

Of course, he had expressed his displeasure with the Lieutenant very quickly.

"Hurse!"

He gulped. "Y-yes, sir?"

"If you ever do something like that again, at least make sure a superior isn't in hearing distance!"

Properly chastised, the Second Lieutenant looked down at his feet, mumbling, "Yes, sir."