Of all the things Edward had expected to be one day, a pet wasn't one of them.

He'd figured he'd have been able to talk to Al pretty soon in spite of having to flee from Tucker. His younger brother no doubt would go searching for him; it would be easy to find him and figure out how to communicate from there. It all should have been fairly simple.

Then whoever this bastard was decided to throw a wrench in his plans by taking him home with him.

That was what Edward had decided to refer to him as in his head: Bastard. He didn't know his name and it wasn't like he could ask. Hell, even if he did know, he doubted he'd use it anyway. Bastard seemed much more fitting than whatever name he could possibly have, anyway.

He'd learned Bastard was an alchemist. Not just that, but a state alchemist - the silver pocket watch all state alchemists own was hard to miss. He had to know his stuff to manage that. Maybe if Ed could figure out how to communicate with him, he'd be able to help him out.

Unfortunately, Ed wasn't sure how he'd go about doing that. Bastard didn't seem to have chalk just laying around he could use, and scratching out words or a circle wasn't an option because of the whole declawed thing.

It seemed he was stuck. He couldn't find any options at the moment. For now, he'd just have to wait for an opportunity to present itself. It was all he could do.

God, Ed hated having to wait.

Alphonse was worried.

No, scratch that, worried didn't even begin to describe how he felt right now.

Edward was missing. His brother was missing, and Al had no idea where he'd gone.

"I'm sorry, Alphonse, but I'm not sure where Edward went," Tucker had answered apologetically to his frantic questioning. "Perhaps he's learned of a new book he wanted to track down, or maybe he's busy experimenting." The words were meant to be reassuring, but Al knew they weren't true. It wasn't like Ed to run off without telling Al, not unless something big had happened. He didn't even leave him a note. No, something had to be wrong.

He clenched his fists tightly at his sides, trying to ignore their shaking. "…I'm gonna go search for him. I'll be back soon."

"Alright, then. Good luck," Tucker said, adjusting his glasses. The words were friendly, but there was something strange in the man's expression that Alphonse couldn't quite place. He elected to ignore it for the time being. Finding his brother was the most important thing. Besides, it's probably just Mr. Tucker being worried, too. Or maybe thinking Alphonse was overreacting. Regardless, it didn't really warrant his concern right now.

He searched for hours, until the sun began to set, but there was no trace of his brother. He wanted to search even longer, but he knew Nina would be worried if he didn't return before dark.

Something was off about the whole situation, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Where could he have possibly gone? He wouldn't leave without telling Al. Did someone take him? It was the only thing that made any sense to him. But who would target him, and why? How would they even take him without Al's knowing, with Ed never leaving without telling him or bringing him along? The whole thing was strange and he had no idea how to even begin figuring it out. He'd have to find a way, though.

He couldn't lose any more family.

Mustang didn't think he'd ever met an animal who hated him so much.

Granted, he hadn't had much experience with animals apart from Black Hayate, who was of course a dog. He didn't know much at all about cats. Maybe they were just like that.

Were cats supposed to glare? He wasn't sure. He really didn't know what he was doing.

He had asked Hawkeye for help - she was good with animals, Black Hayate was proof enough of that. Unfortunately, she said she didn't know anything about cats either. He was resigning himself to figuring it out by trial and error when Hughes approached him, offering to help. "My beautiful Gracia is great with cats! All animals, really! We'll come help you out!" he'd said. Mustang wasn't sure how much of that was true and how much was him just gushing over his wife, but he relented anyway. Hughes would come help regardless of whether Mustang let him or not anyway.

The next day, since it was a weekend, Hughes arrived bright and early along with his wife at Mustang's home. "Hey, Roy!" Hughes greeted brightly when Mustang opened the door. "Let's see the little guy, yeah?"

Cutting right to the chase, huh? Mustang was starting to wonder if Hughes came just to bother the poor cat. "Hey, by the way, what's his name? Just realized I never actually asked!" the man in question said with a sheepish laugh. Mustang just blinked for a moment, processing the question.

Right. You have to actually give animals names. Something that definitely didn't slip Mustang's mind.

Hughes seemed to understand his lack of response immediately. "Don't tell me you forgot to name the poor thing, Roy!" he said, exasperated. When Mustang simply averted his eyes, he sighed. "Well, we'll just have to give him a name when we see him, huh?"

Mustang couldn't help but feel a little sympathy for the cat. Hughes would give him the worst possible name if he let him.

"Aw, isn't he just the cutest!" Hughes gushed upon laying eyes on the cat. Mustang's eye twitched. He wasn't sure if he was trying to bug him or if it was just Hughes being Hughes.

The cat seemed to be glaring again. He did that a lot. Mustang couldn't really blame him for it this time. He was tempted to glare at Hughes himself.

"Never seen a cat that color before!" Hughes mused. "It's like he's gold, almost!" That was an unusual color? Sure, Mustang hadn't ever seen one that color either, but then, it's not like he's spent much time with cats. Guess that shows just how much I know about cats.

"Hmm, gotta think of a unique name for such a unique cat!" Hughes continued. "Goldie? Nah, too basic. Sunny, maybe? No, that's no good either…" Mustang decided to tune the man out at that point. It was better for his own sanity.

He turned to Gracia. "I don't suppose you have any actual advice, unlike a certain someone, do you?" he asked. He really hoped she actually knew something and Hughes hadn't just been exaggerating her knowledge gushing over her.

She smiled, glancing over at her husband, who was still listing off names to a cat who would not stop glaring at him. Her amusement was clear on her face. "Let's start with the basics. Do you have a litter box and litter? What about cat food?"

Mustang nodded. He knew they needed that much, at least. Though the cat seemed to completely ignore the cat food. He was pretty sure he'd noticed food going missing whenever he went to put away any leftovers. Almost definitely the cat's doing, but at least he was eating. Stubborn brat, too good for cat food like any other cat.

"You should get him a vet appointment as soon as possible if you haven't already, especially since he was a stray." He nodded again, unsure of how that had slipped his mind. "A scratching post and something for him to climb would be good, too. And some cat toys." That seemed easy enough. Mustang could do that.

"I've got it!" Hughes exclaimed suddenly. Mustang turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised. "Butter!"

A beat of silence. "What."

"For his name! Y'know, 'cause of how yellow he is?"

"Absolutely not," Mustang frowned.

"Aw, come on, Roy! I think it's cute!" He walked over to the cat, crouching down and holding out a hand for him to sniff. "Hello there, Butter," Hughes cooed.

The cat ignored his hand entirely, hissing. For all his glaring, Mustang hadn't actually heard him hiss before. "Look, even he doesn't like the name."

"Aw, well that's just too bad," Hughes said, standing up. Gracia giggled at her husband's antics.

"It was nice seeing you, Roy. You and Butter take care!" she said as she walked to the door.

"See you later, Royboy!" Hughes exclaimed as he rushed to follow his wife. Mustang sighed as the door closed.

Looks like the poor thing was being named Butter after all.