Technically part 3 in my Kitty!verse, but since part 2 will never be posted here, this is what we are left with.

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"Ed! Al! I'm home!" Roy called as he shut the front door behind him, tossing his trench coat on its hook.

"PAPA!" came the shriek from somewhere within the house. There was much bumping and crashing before a small boy came barreling around a corner as fast as his chubby little legs could carry him. He squealed in delight as Roy caught him, swinging him up and into a bear hug before flipping the boy back on the floor to clutch at his leg.

"Mr. Roy, I'm glad that you're home, you can have a talk with your son."

"Hi, Anita, you're here late." Roy kissed the cheek of the woman who had followed his adopted son into the room. Anita Johnson was their son's nanny, as well as their self-appointed cook and housekeeper, and the household's undisputed matriarch. The sprightly elder woman had saved himself and his husband from their woeful lack of domestic skills, and had become something of a mother hen to all three of 'her boys'.

"Yes, well, Mr. Edward called to say that he and his brother would be working rather late tonight on some project, and asked me to stay with the boy until you got home. Which, of course, is never a problem, it's just that, well, lets just say that the boy decided to be a bit, well, creative today."

Roy winced. "What did he do now?"

She gave Roy a look before wordlessly motioning for him to follow her into the house. She paused by the door to Ed's study, opening the door and letting him step in. Al giggled from the ride through the house seated firmly atop his father's foot.

Dark eyes scanned the room in trepidation. For a moment, however, Roy didn't recognize anything to be out of place. The walls, the carpet, the furniture, the books… everything seemed to be alright. Roy let out a breath he had been holding, only to have it catch again when his eyes fell on the one thing that was indeed very wrong. On a footstool lay their oldest feline, the beautiful white Persian long-hair that Alphonse had given them to celebrate little Al's adoption. Roy choked slightly. The beautiful, long fur of the cat had been white when he had left for work that morning. He was sure of it. It was currently a rather fetching shade of purplish-pink.

"Ummmmm," Roy couldn't quite find words. "Anita. Is that cat PINK?"

"Yes, sir. Not exactly sure how the boy managed it, really. He's a smart one, let me tell you. Takes a lot of effort to dunk a cat in a pitcher of grape juice. Especially without my noticing the commotion. I tried washing her, but you know how grape juice stains…"

Roy's head swam. "Stains."

"Yup. Well, don't worry too much, it's really not permanent. It'll fade if you bathe her a lot, and eventually it will be replaced as she sheds and grows a new coat. Or if Mr. Edward tries to alchemize it out, that might work, too."

Ed. Oh, fuck. "Ed's going to kill me."

"Now, now, sir. He'll do no such thing. He has no reason to blame you. If anything, the both of you should blame me. I'm the one who figured that he might actually play quietly in the sitting room. I should have known better."

Roy sighed. "You don't understand. He'll never admit it, but Ed adores that cat. He'll bitch about her, to be sure, but she practically lives in his study. He's going to have a conniption at the very thought of her being in any sort of danger. Yeah, I know that it didn't hurt her, not really. And no, I'm not going to, nor will I allow Edward to blame you. How could we? The kid's somehow managed to inherit Ed's mischievousness, I swear. We can't even keep up with him, and he's barely two. I dread to think of his teen years."

He scooped up the boy clinging to his leg, holding him out in front of him at eye-level. "Alphonse, what did you do to the kitty?"

"Kitty's pretty!" Al squirmed until Roy set him back down, then ran over to inspect the berry-colored cat.

Roy just rolled his eyes and turned back to the woman at his side. "I'll just let Edward deal with him, I want no part of this." Roy stated decisively. "Anita, you can head out now. Thank you for staying, but I know that you need to be getting home."

"Yes, sir. I took care of the majority of the mess the little monster managed to make while engaging in his artistic endeavor. Although the clothes he was wearing are a lost cause, I'm afraid." She shook her head. "Oh, and your and Mr. Edward's laundry has been folded and put away, and there is a roast in the oven. It'll keep warm until he gets home, too."

"You're too good to us, Anita. You know that doing our laundry isn't necessary, nor is cooking. We could figure it out, really, if you didn't spoil us so."

"Bah, you boys are worthless without me. And I'll not have my Fuhrer looking like the incompetent male that he is. I'll see you in the morning, sir."

"Goodnight, 'Nita," Roy called as the woman left. He turned his attention to his son, who was deftly circling the wary feline, staying just out of the range of the outstretched claws. "Now, Midget, what am I going to do with you?"

Al just giggled. He turned away from the cat and to his father, his face a picture of angelic innocence. "I love you, Papa."

"Oh, no, that line's not going to work on me," Roy admonished, fighting to keep his lips from twisting into a smirk. "It'll probably work on Ed, though. He never has learned to stand up to you. I'll be surprised if he's home before you're in bed, though. Come on, let's get you some food."

Al laughed and ran ahead of him to the kitchen. For the first time, Roy realized that the boy's hands, feet, and part of his face were darkened a pinkish-purple. He shook his head.

'Yup. Ed's gonna kill me. But how could I have known that the simple activity of dying eggs for an archaic holiday would lead to this?'

"I'm home!"

Ed's voice echoed through the halls. A few moments later, and the man himself appeared, pulling his hair down out of its ponytail and flopping down on the sofa next to Roy, leaning on his husband's shoulder.

"I'm exhausted. Did Anita leave dinner? Something smells good, and I know that you can't cook worth a damn. He snuggled in closer, sighing contentedly as Roy draped his arm around him. Where's the kid? He can't be asleep already, it's only eight-thirty…" His ramblings trailed off as he spied the ball of fur curled up on a chair across the room.

"Roy, sweetheart, darling?" The blonde's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Yes, Ed?"

"Why the fuck is my cat pink?"