Over. It was finally over. Roy watched as his signature scrawled across the final form on his desk. He had long since lost all feeling in his hand, and he was vaguely wondering how he was going to pry his fingers from the pen.
But he honestly couldn't care. For the possibly the first time in his life, he had finished early.
The paperwork was done. Over. Finished.
Colonel Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist, had finished his paperwork two hours before the deadline and would be able to go home on time – if not early.
He was quite proud of this.
Of course, Roy's happiness was incredibly short-lived. He really should have known that Riza wouldn't let him go early. She was, after all, an evil-minded bitch (not that he would ever dare say that in her hearing – she actually would shoot him).
As Roy was busy celebrating mentally (he had prepared a celebratory dance but was unwilling to perform it anywhere but in his locked bedroom or in his head), he was too preoccupied to notice as Jean Havoc (traitor that he was) poked his head in through the door.
And of course, he was unable to notice when Jean stepped back out and reported to Riza that their commanding officer seemed to be finished for the day.
Riza felt very strongly that this violated the natural order of things, and quickly went in search of a solution.
When Roy caught sight of Riza's 'solution', his illusions of freedom shattered into a million tiny pieces. He whimpered.
Riza ignored his obvious distress and placed the unnecessarily large stack of paper upon his desk, giving him a pointed glare. "Sign. Sir."
It was at this point that Roy decided that life was no longer worth living.
He briefly considered shooting himself, but had a feeling that Riza would beat him to it if he tried.
His other options included setting himself on fire (an experience he had no desire to repeat), suffocating himself with paperwork, and using said paperwork to paper-cut himself to death.
Then his gaze fell to the open window, and there was no time left for thought.
He threw himself out of his chair and over the desk, earning himself a startled "Colonel!" from his lieutenant and dove head-first out the window.
Jean, Fuery, Breda and Falman had raced into the room after Riza's exclamation and arrived just in time to see Roy's boots vanish over the windowsill.
Fuery blinked a few times. "Did he just…?"
Riza nodded slowly. "Yes. Yes he did."
The five of them moved over to the window and peered down at their commanding officer.
Roy groaned and rolled onto his back. "Well, that didn't work." He looked up at the window and saw his subordinates staring down at him. "What?"
"Colonel, forgive me for saying this, but you're kind of an idiot."
Roy blinked at Falman. "Well, that was awfully insubordinate of you."
Falman rolled his eyes. "Considering your current situation and immediate preceding actions, sir, I felt that the statement was called for."
"I hate you all."
"We know, sir," Fuery sighed. "You remind us of the fact at least hourly."
"You see what happens when you're mean to me? I try to kill myself."
"You were never going to die jumping from that window," Breda pointed out. "We're on the ground floor, Colonel."
Roy closed his eyes. "Yes, Breda, I am painfully aware of that." He opened his eyes again. "Remind me to request an office on a higher floor."
"I'll take special care to forget that, Chief."
"Jean, you suck." He would have commented further, perhaps mentioning Riza's sudden absence from his line of sight, but something (that was later identified as Black Hayate) pounced on his head before running away with great speed.
Dazed, Roy blinked a few times, squinting into the late afternoon sun. Moments later, a shadow fell across him and he felt a sense of impending doom.
Staring into the barrel of Riza's gun, he realised why.
"Sir, get back inside and finish your paperwork before I am forced to shoot you."
Not moving, he raised an eyebrow. "I just attempted to kill myself, Lieutenant. What makes you think I'm scared of you killing me?"
A decidedly evil smirk crossed the woman's face. "I never said I would kill you." The gun moved downwards in a threatening manner. "Or let you kill yourself after I shoot you."
Roy gulped. "Ah. In that case, bring on the paperwork!"
Wolfie is not certain she wants to admit to writing this one...and yet she posts anyway. Silly Wolfie. Wolfie needs sleep.