Some time passed. Al periodically looked up from his work to see how Li was doing. Part of his pleasure in taking in the cat had been so that the contractor would be a little distracted from his confinement; he wasn't sure how the man would take to being essentially imprisoned, particularly in the company of one who was free.

Li did busy himself for some time with their new acquisition. However, after constructing a makeshift litter box and setting out food and water dishes for it, he'd resumed stretching and proceeded to ignore the cat, which likewise was ignoring not only Li, but both of them. First it had roamed around the entire quarters for a good half an hour, and now appeared to be asleep in a patch of sunshine on the floor. Li, too, had finished his stretching and was lying on the couch, a neutral expression on his face.

Abruptly, Al turned over the back of his chair and began to apologize. "I guess you probably feel pretty cooped up."

Li sat up a little, leaning on his elbows, an expression of mild surprise on his features. "No, not particularly…"

"Oh." Al seemed taken aback. "I guess I just figured 'prison' would feel…confining."

A pause, and then Li grinned. "I've been on the run for awhile," he replied, shrugging. "This isn't ideal, but it's a hell of a lot better than scraping by at dead-end jobs and hiding in cockroach motels. Besides, I'm willing to gamble that it's better than the actual prison."

"Research lab," corrected Al automatically.

"Right. I wouldn't argue if you gave me something to do, though."

Al shook his head, feeling color rise to his cheeks. "I didn't mean that…I didn't mean that you should – "

"Don't worry about it," Li said, and his tone was so gentle that Al couldn't help relaxing a bit. "All I mean was that I'm a guest, of sorts, here, and I'm not averse to cleaning or cooking or anything. Or," added hesitantly, "helping you with your research, though I'm not sure if that's appropriate."

Casting an absent eye back over the table littered with papers and books, Al thought it over. "Maybe," he said, thinking about his brother. "Nii-san's going to be upset enough when he finds out that I took in a cat."

"Well, in that case, I don't mind making us lunch." The contractor's stomach growled, and he smiled a little in embarrassment. "That is, if it's alright."

Pleased by the suggestion, Al shook his head. "It's fine! It's better, actually…I usually forget to make it for myself. You can make whatever you like; I'm not picky."

The contractor nodded, rising. "It shouldn't take more than a half an hour."

"Take all the time you want," Al insisted.

Li grinned. "You wouldn't notice anyway, right?"

Al smiled back. "Probably not."

When the older man had padded into the kitchenette, Al attempted half-heartedly to return to his work. For weeks now he had been focusing on compiling their research regarding comparative studies in soul transmutation between contractors and Dolls. Essentially, though there were still gaps in the theory, they had found that in both types of beings there was in effect a perversion of the soul; a type of obscure transmutation they did not fully understand yet.

In Dolls, it appeared that the soul was whittled down to its most basic functions; in contractors, somehow filtered and displaced. Some of Ed's research, conducted while observing contractors access their abilities, indicated that the aspects of the soul which had been filtered had somehow been replaced with a liquid or light form of the philosopher's stone (hence, the red glow in the eyes); which would also account for their ability to manipulate matter without arrays.

The question was, of course, what happened to the rest of their souls.

"Trapped," Ed had asserted, when his younger brother put forth the question, "within the gate. Since the gate has emerged partially into the world, they're able to remain alive. But it's not full life."

Not full life. The implications of this research were troubling. If this somehow qualified contractors and Dolls as less than human…

Already, they had seen some of what the consequences could be of the application of this knowledge, to say nothing of the legal consequences. Miraculous, horrifying possibilities. Al took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair.

"Would you like to eat now?"

Jarred out of his thoughts, Al noticed the delicious odor wafting in from the kitchen, and returned Li's querying face with a smile. "Sure. I'll clear the table off."

The acquisition of Li, the child contractor and their Doll could prove a complicating factor to their theory. All three of them seemed to display startlingly high levels of human emotion. Moreover, there was the lack of Li's remuneration, a fact which directly seemed to contradict the theory that a contractor's ability was enabled through the replacement of facets of his soul with red matter; if Li didn't have to abide by the rules of equivalent exchange through remuneration, then that meant…

He had no soul. Like a Homunculus.

Technically, Al reminded himself as he cleared the table, that wasn't correct, either. Homunculi weren't without souls, per se. Certainly not without a consciousness. But in their case, consciousness was constructed out of thousands of shards of human souls, mutilated beyond the possibility of being human. As Li came back in and began to set the table, Al remonstrated with himself for asking the silent question:

Human?

"You wouldn't happen to have a cigarette, would you?" Li's inquiry broke into his thoughts, and Al shook his head ruefully.

"Sorry, I don't. Actually – " Al went into the bedroom and rummaged around in the nightstand, and finally chanced upon a crumpled, stale carton. Returning to the table, he sketched an array on a stray sheet of paper and transmuted them smooth and reasonably fresh again. "Will these do?"

"Definitely. Thanks." Li put one between his lips, and automatically, Al clapped softly and reached over, extending his forefinger to touch the tip. The tobacco and paper crumpled with a barely audible hiss as it caught fire, and Li inhaled.

"I hope it's alright."

"'A woman is a woman, but a Caporal is a cigarette,'" Li recited somewhat fondly. Al smiled, leaning back in his chair.

"You remind me of a friend of ours. Comrade," he corrected himself, envisioning Havoc's reaction to being called 'friend.' "A fellow soldier. He's the one who got Nii-san hooked on these, but he quit when we came back."

"Back?"

"From the East."

"Oh, were you fighting in the Second War?" Politely Li averted his head and blew smoke in the general direction of the half-open window. Al didn't reply, thinking of ways he could respond; thinking he'd said too much.

"It's a shame we didn't run into one another," Li continued, gazing at the ceiling, and once again Al thought he saw – or imagined – a deadened glint in the older man's eyes. "Then again, the military had its hands full with contractors at the time."

Hands full. Was it only his imagination which conjured up terrible visions when he focused on Li's face for too long a period of time – or was it guilt? Briefly Al closed his eyes against the memories, and then focused downward, pulling himself forcibly back into his work.

"I'm home."

Al looked up from his work. "Welcome back," he replied. Watching his brother hang up his coat, he noted that he looked, as usual, exhausted. He rose and started to clear off the table again, as Li poked his head into the main room from the kitchenette and repeated Al's greeting. Ed grunted something in his general direction and then headed for the bedroom to change, saying,

"Go ahead and start dinner without me. I might shower before I eat."

The younger brother nodded, then paused in his tidying up, remembering where he'd seen the cat wander not too long before. "Ah, Nii-san…"

Too late.

"Al. What exactly is lying on my bed?"

Sensing hostility, the cat jumped nimbly down from where it had made itself comfortable on the bed and attempted to stalk by the young alchemist into the main room, but Ed reached down with his automail hand and scooped it up, holding it as Li had. The cat wailed a bit and Al protested, "You'll hurt him!"

"Him?" Ed let the cat drop to the floor and it stalked off, hissing darkly. "I don't believe this. How did we manage to end up with two unwanted creatures in our place in the span of the same day?"

"Neither of them are unwanted! And, Nii-san, having Li here was something that you thought of, not me."

Ed shook his head, starting to say, "I'm too tired to argue…" but trailed off instead when he saw the food that Li was carrying into the main room. "He made dinner?"

"I hope it's alright," Li said, as Al assured his brother,

"Li is a great cook. He made me lunch, and it was delicious, so I suggested that we make dinner together, but he went ahead and handled it himself. Wasn't that kind of him?"

"I don't know what else he was supposed to do all day," Ed commented as he swung the bedroom door shut. Al, however, had caught the gleam of surprise (and, though restrained, appreciation) in his brother's eyes.

When they had settled down to eat, Ed's eyes widened at the amount and variety of food on the table. Though Al was a decent cook (Ed himself could not cook in any sense of the word), he had never before seen such a spread aside from larger get-togethers for which several people, usually friends of the brothers, had all collaborated. There was soup, salad, noodles and meat, rice, a pot of cooked vegetables, fried bean curd; and in quantities which were much more than enough for the three of them. Ed glanced down at the cat, which had settled itself on top of Al's feet underneath the table.

"Don't tell me we're expecting more of his friends."

Al laughed, imagining a tableful of cats, and the sound seemed strange both to him and to his brother. A little abashed, Li explained,

"I've always had something of a big appetite."

"So I see. I'll have to let the Colonel know so that he can make a note of it in our expense report."

Expense report? Al looked to his older brother expectantly. "Nii-san, does that mean that – ?"

Ed waved his brother's question off, reaching for a bowl of soup. Anticipating his motion, Li picked it up and passed it to him, and he accepted it with only a slight motion of annoyance. "It's not something I'd like to discuss over dinner, really, but his presence here has been approved, as long as the array is kept intact. Once there is a transfer, he'll be moved into the usual lodgings."

"That's great!" Met with two pairs of upraised eyebrows, Al cleared his throat and suddenly found his salad extremely interesting. "I mean…it's just nice to have some company during the day."

"Hmph." Ed seemed neither pleased nor displeased with Al's explanation, but a slow expression of contentment was working its way over his features as he ate. "This isn't half bad."

Li smiled. "Thanks." He was eating slowly but methodically, and had already worked his way through a plate and a half. Al had seen something of his appetite at lunch, and as it had then, it bemused the young alchemist. If I didn't know better, I'd think his remuneration was to eat…

Noting the atmosphere of relative peace that had settled over the table, Al decided to try his luck. "So…how was work today?"

"Fine. I had to finish up on the last round of tests before I could get to our new arrivals, though." Ed gestured at Li with his fork. "Maybe tomorrow, or the next day. What do you say, contractor? Want to see your comrades?"

The cat picked itself off Al's feet and stalked off behind them. Al scowled at his brother, but Li didn't seem to notice, or mind. He only smiled wanly and said, "I'd like that very much."

"Well, we'll see."

Something told Al not to push further, but some part of him had been becoming more and more irked by his brother's continual verbal jabs at Li. It was unlike his brother to treat the contractors they worked with in this way – or, at least, it had been unlike him, when he and Al used to conduct their research together at the lab. The first wave of contractor research had been conducted in the aftermath of the Second War, and though Ed and Al hadn't been directly involved, they knew that egregious violations of human rights had occurred. 'Egregious violations' – it was a good euphemism for the whole of the war.

Life had continued more or less uninterrupted from that point on; or so the brothers pretended that it had. However, since the murders a month previous, recalling all the horrors which had come before, Al had worked from home, and he feared the possibility that his brother's behavior toward Li might be an indication of an altered attitude toward contractors in general.

None of them had left the front lines of the war completely intact. But he hesitated to think that Ed could have changed so drastically.

Thinking this, Al purposefully brought up a topic that he suspected might stir his brother to a negative reaction. As casually as possible, he swallowed the noodles he had been chewing and said, "Li's not just company, either. Today he offered to help me with my work. I think it would go a lot faster if there were two of us transcribing, or at very least if I had someone to dictate to me."

Ed paused mid-bite. Though his face did not seem to change, Al noted that his mood had chilled considerably. Replacing his fork, he shrugged. "If you need dictation, call Schiezka. If you're finding compilation too hard, maybe we need to switch places."

"I don't 'need' either of those things," Al replied, refusing to rise to his brother's bait. "You know very well that we can't have anyone else from the military helping us until we've compiled the full report. I think it makes sense for Li to help me while he's here, if he's willing." He glanced at the contractor, who nodded. "Maybe he can even help us…after all, he's different from the others. If we're going to have a complete theory, we need input from both sides."

Now Ed's anger was palpable. With one hand he pushed his chair back from the table, and pointed the other at Al. "Listen to what you're saying. You can't have help from the military because we don't want information leaking, and you think that this rogue contractor is going to be more reliable and trustworthy? We don't know anything about him."

"Exactly!" Al felt heat rising to his face. "We don't, and you've just made all these hateful assumptions…he's sitting right here, and you can't even call him by his name or talk directly to him!"

"That's probably not even his real name," Ed growled back. His face had registered brief, but profound, hurt at the word 'hateful.' "He's no different from any of the others."

Al felt a sensation like choking rise in his chest. "Nii-san, when did you change so much?"

"Change?" Ed rose and gestured sharply. "Don't you remember anything? Fuck it. I'm going to bed." So saying, he slammed his chair back into place and stormed off to the bedroom, rattling the door closed behind him. The loud click of a lock being turned echoed in the now-silent apartment, and Al's chest heaved painfully. He stared at his half-empty plate, fighting tears.

Suddenly he felt a tentative hand on his shoulder, and turned to face Li. The contractor's face was full of concern, and Al felt instinctively that it was genuine. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I didn't intend to come between you and your brother."

Al shook his head, feeling an overwhelming weariness at the anticipation of another long night's argument. "You're not the problem. Things haven't been right between us in a while."

Li nodded to show he understood, then withdrew his hand hesitantly. "Should I wrap up your plate, or…?"

"I'm not hungry anymore, thank you." Al stood. "Let me help you with cleaning up," he offered, starting to reach for a plate.

"Don't worry," Li insisted. "I'll take care of it."

The gratitude Al felt at the older man's kindness was nearly as overwhelming as his confusion and weariness. Slowly he made his way to the couch and lay down, slinging one arm across his face to block out the light. He heard Li quietly clear the table, and at length sensed the contractor's presence at his side briefly, hearing the sound of him setting something down on the coffee table between the couches.

When he heard the contractor pad almost soundlessly back into the kitchenette, Al peeked out from underneath his arm and noted the mug of warm spiced milk Li had placed there. Shifting to a sitting position, he took it up and sipped, the warmth spreading through his body in a comforting way. How could Nii-san ever be suspicious of someone who is so kind, even while he's being kept as a prisoner?

"Miaow." Al felt the cat, first rubbing itself on his legs, lightly jump up and land beside him on the couch. Purring softly, it curled closer to him. He rubbed between its ears absently as Li re-entered the main room with a mug of his own and took a seat on the couch opposite. In silence he sipped at his mug, deferentially allowing Al to gather his thoughts.

Al knew he would have to speak to his brother that night, even if it meant waking him up. Finishing his milk, he rose, and, giving an apologetic half-smile to Li, motioned toward the bedroom. "I'm going to talk to him."

Li nodded, stretching out a hand to take the empty mug. "In that case, I think I'll retire for the night." He rose as well, and gestured with one of the mugs toward the front door. "You should probably lock it. Your brother would be angry."

"You're right." Al went to the door, clapped, and sealed it. He repeated the motion with the windows, then stopped in the kitchenette, where Li was washing dishes. "Good night."

The contractor half-turned, giving an empathetic smile. "Good night."

He stood before the bedroom door, drew a deep breath, and clapped softly, opening it. As he stepped into the dark, he felt something flash by his feet and inwardly cursed for having forgotten the cat. It appeared to have gone under the bed, however, and Al prayed it would stay there.

Softly he shut the door. "Nii-san," he said, groping blindly. "Nii-san."

Hours later, Hei was dozing lightly when he heard the barely audible creak of the bedroom door. He tensed but did not move, and soon felt the light weight of Mao settling on the arm of the couch above his head. For a moment neither spoke, listening for the brothers, but no noises followed. The loudest of the yelling had subsided nearly an hour earlier, but even at its loudest Hei had had trouble making out what the boys were saying. Finally Mao, lashing his tail as he did whenever agitated, remarked,

"Some mess you've gotten us into."

Hei was silent.

"They're a strange pair," Mao hissed, thoughtfully. "I can't say much…the tall one isn't spending the night in there, I think. But their relationship is odd, to say the least."

"That's obvious." Mao seemed unusually contemplative, and Hei likewise noted an air of pensiveness which had seized hold of him.

"You're not getting invested here, are you, Hei?"

"Are you?" Hei returned, somehow managing to make the inquiry sound totally disinterested.

"Just intrigued." They both heard the floorboards squeak, and Mao tensed and leapt off the couch. "Tell you more later."

In the faint glow of the streetlights below which came in through the windows, Hei could see that Al looked exhausted. The light reflected off his tear-streaked face as Mao padded over to him, miaowing plaintively, and the young alchemist obligingly went to the window and opened it for him. When he had gone, Al locked it again and then went into the kitchenette. Hearing the sound of running water, Hei wondered if he should go in to talk to him, but decided against it.

When Al returned, his face dripped with water, and the light caught the moisture in the hair framing his face; he'd clearly washed it there. Going to the couch opposite Hei, he arranged a pillow and blankets, and then brought one over. As he unfolded it and swept it up to spread it over the contractor, Al noticed his half-open eyes, and averted his face in shame. Neither spoke, however, and within minutes they were each lying on their backs on separate couches, drifting uneasily toward sleep.

After leaving the apartment, Mao allowed himself a prolonged stretch in the courtyard, followed by a brief roll in the frosted winter grass, the ice clinging to his dark fur. The underside of the bed had been even worse than the couch, and he longed to exercise his muscles and clear the dust out of the back of his throat.

Remembering he had a purpose to fulfill, he stretched one last time and then sprang up, heading swiftly toward the hole dug under the wall which surrounded the military complex at Central. He could have easily sauntered through the front gates, but he preferred to attract as little attention as possible, particularly as it appeared that he'd become the Fullmetal Alchemists' pet.

As he made his way through the midnight city, Mao reflected on the conversation he'd overheard between the two young alchemists. Despite hours of the younger one's pleading, the elder had remained firm in his bitter convictions. A dangerous person, it seemed. On the other hand, while the younger was clearly grieving, it was his relentless optimism that was truly heartbreaking; Mao had heard him struggling to hold on to it, and to his brother as well, and the elder had shrugged him off as if he were a mere annoyance.

The atmosphere of the conversation, nonetheless, had been intimate, with long pauses and, judging from the noises of the bed above Mao, attempts on the part of the younger brother to reconcile physically, or to at least evoke an emotional response out of the elder. It had been after the third of these rebuffed attempts that he'd finally rose and said, in a totally different tone,

"Fine. I won't bother you anymore."

Ultimately Mao had gathered no new information, and though interested in the brothers' relationship out of a slight schadenfruede, was annoyed at the time he had wasted. He paused underneath a street light, drawing a rear paw to his mouth and using his small fangs to dislodge a piece of ice stuck between his toes. Their original plan had involved none of this, but it seemed that they were in a position to uncover some valuable information eventually. It would be uncomfortable to do so at the expense of this pair of abnormally close brothers, but it was an opportunity from which neither of them could turn away until they'd fulfilled the terms of their mission.

Finally he reached the rendezvous point in a long narrow passageway between two restaurants, and upon turning over a few garbage can lids he found the message that had been left for him, scrawled on a stained napkin:

Apprised of the situation. As you were. Further instructions will come in a month's time.

The cat snarled a little with displeasure at the delay, then fell upon the task of shredding the note to pieces and rubbing them into the mud. Finally satisfied, he headed out of the alley on light feet, mulling over the instructions. They were being given freedom to conduct themselves as they saw fit.

He decided half-absently that he would withhold what he had overhead and surmised inside of Elrics' bedroom from Hei, and observe on his own how the contractor handled himself between the two of them. Hei's genuine emotions and thoughts were notoriously difficult to read, and Mao wondered at the surprising effort he'd already gone to in order to ingratiate himself with the younger one.

Then again, perhaps it was because he sensed that it was the lever by which he could manipulate the two of them apart, thus gathering the information and situational benefits which were sure to arise from the fallout. In the final analysis, it didn't seem likely to get him any closer to his ultimate goal…but perhaps by now, Mao reflected with a touch of cynicism, Hei's eventual intention had changed. It was never easy to tell with him.

Head tilted toward the overcast night sky, Mao twitched an ear. It would snow soon, and with this in mind he headed back for the military complex, looking forward to sleeping – much to the contractor's annoyance – in the warm place between the couch and Hei's back. For the moment, he decided, the best thing to do was to wait, and bide his time.

In the street, a light snow gathered.