A/N: Okay, here's the ending to round it all up. To my reviewers:

Marina: Thanks for your comments. I try to keep the characters IC unless the situation calls for it, though you could say that it's due to my over-obsession on the manga... And yes, one of my favourite part of the series is the verbal sparring between Ed and Roy. Sadly, they don't go on for very long, though I'm satisfied with a short joke or two.

Harryswoman: Thanks. I have nothing against Ed! I swear!

Yun Min: Ed reacts to any hints of 'shortness'. That's what makes him so bulliable

Disclaimers: Me no own fma. All rights belong to Hiromu Arakawa, Funimation, Square Enix and the rest.

Epilogue

Time: 1910 hours

Location: Main entrance, Central HQ

The yard sale had ended, and the men were doing cleaning up the area. Most were tidying up the last vestiges of a mess in one overlooked corner or another, while others had already decided to call it a day.

Colonel Roy Mustang was a fortunate individual of the latter group, having taken care of all his paperwork that afternoon. Currently, he had taken it upon himself to persuade a loyal and hardworking subordinate to take a well-deserved rest. However, the subject was not cooperating.

"Taisa, I still need to submit these files. Unless you have something of importance to say, I suggest that you go home and get some sleep," Riza Hawkeye stated in an irate tone and fixed her superior with a stern look.

Roy groaned mentally and cast a distasteful glance at the pile of folders in her hands. Moral of the day: Paperwork is the root of all evil. But it was too early to surrender! Depriving his precious lieutenant of her rest was a crime that he would not leave unpunished!

"These are reports for the Intelligence Department." He pondered for a while. Charcoal eyes lit up as he spotted a person he could manipulate –ahem– ask for help. "Ah, Scieszka, do you mind dropping these off at the in-tray of Hughes-chuusa? He should know what to do with them."

"Y-yes sir," the brown-haired girl stuttered nervously. Taking the documents from Riza (who had relinquished them rather grudgingly), she turned hastily and scampered off without a backward glance.

"There," Roy turned to Riza with a satisfied smile. "Anything else that needs to be done?" He was prepared to forcibly drag her out of the compound if necessary.

Riza frowned. "Not particularly, sir," she admitted (Hallelujah! Joy to the world!).

"Excellent. It's still quite early, so what say you to dinner? My treat."

"But taisa, there are still– "

Not again. "No buts, Hawkeye. You've been working hard these few days; is it that bad to take some time off to relax?"

The sharpshooter hesitated. "What if we're spotted together by someone like a general?"

Roy had briefly considered the possibility of her asking that, and thus already had an answer. "They'll probably see it as two fellow officers celebrating after a day at the fair. That sort of sight isn't uncommon around here."

Riza gave a few more weak protests, but eventually gave in at Roy's persistent urging. "Just for tonight, I suppose," she consented in defeat.

Inwardly cheering, Roy managed to maintain his outward composure (unless you counted that added spring in his step). He took a few steps and turned around, grinning boyishly. "Aw, come on. You mean you didn't like my company this afternoon?"

"Considering that incident with Edward Elric, sir?"

Roy pouted childishly. "Riza, it's off-hours now; you don't have to use 'sir'. And I was fine before Fullmetal appeared."

He approached the blond woman and wrapped an arm around her waist. Riza flinched slightly and glared at her colonel with unmerciful red-brown eyes. He responded by sending her an 'I'm-a-poor-cold-and-hungry-puppy-so-please-pity-me' look. It was cute and almost irresistible. 'Almost' being the key word.

In a flash, Roy found a gun pointed right into his face.

"Crap," he thought and silently prayed for a quick and painless death.

Instead, Riza merely smirked and gave him a hard prod with the butt of her handgun.

"You, sir, are incorrigible."

She did allow his arm to stay in place, though.

Time: Unknown (but late enough that little kiddies should be in bed instead of staying up and reading fanfics like this)

Location: Outside a Random Inn in Central

A hunched figure hobbled wearily towards the entrance of the building, trailing the scent of dust and ashes. The long coat he was wearing was sooty and tattered, but one could just make out the red colouring beneath the layers of grime and filth. The stranger's blond hair was in a similar state: badly singed and frizzled to the extreme. He took a step forward, leaning painfully on a crude walking stick, before collapsing heavily onto the street outside the inn. Pain and exhaustion hit him head-on as he tried to get up, causing him to fall down again with twitching limbs.

"So… gonna… murder… that… bloody… bastard…"

OWARI

A/N: The author begs forgiveness for the general messiness. The epilogue was written at roughly 0245 hours, and quetz wasn't in a very stable state of mind. It doesn't help that the holidays are ending (Which means back to waking up at 0600 hours -shudders-). I hope you've gotten a few laughs out of this fic, because I sure did. I'll be posting some new stuff on soon as I get the typed up. Stay tuned, folks.

All reviewers will get a free photo of Colonel Roy Mustang in the final performance of the MYS (if you look closely you can see a small blob in the dragon -snickers-).

- Quetz.