Well, after reading waiting who knows how long, and reading who-knows-how-many little oneshots, are you ready for a new chapter?

I would hope so!

Note: It occurred to me that to pull off the automail, about a year would have to elapse. So, just to clear it up, the second half of the last chapter, focusing on Lust, was basically the main points of the year that elapsed. Most of this chapter, too. Unless you wanted to hear about rehabilitation? I think not.

Disclaimer: I don't own FMA or BBI. I think we established that a long time ago.

xxx

Memories, you see, aren't as painful if you ignore that.

That's how Lust would get by every day, for the sound of gunshots usually brought some small memory up. Dogs and fire, too, but that was a different matter.

After living like this for who-knows-how-long, she came to notice the small things: the way Sloth paused in her frantic scribbling when someone mentioned apples or some other fruit, without looking up, then continue. Or the way Pride would narrow his eyes at some color or a kitten's mew, but never really say anything.

And it wasn't just them. Gluttony would sniff at the mention of Lust, even if it was referring to herself, or throw a glare at her. Wrath seemed to have a soft spot for children, if that was possible, and so never really ventured out into the market, where there where bound to be some.

Envy, however, was a mystery. He didn't seem to care about anything, unless it involved the misery of others. Pain, it seemed, was the only thing he enjoyed.

Envy, too, seemed like the only one who didn't care for the philosopher's stone. (We want it to become human, Pride had explained once, and since we can't do alchemy, we need humans to make it for us.)

But, it seemed, Envy didn't want to be human.

She asked Pride about this once, on one of those days where the snow drags down the temperature, so much that even time seems to be frozen.

"Envy? Human? No, he hates them. He…Only likes to watch them suffer, you know." So much for an answer.

"That's the point. Why is he the only one who doesn't care?"

The silence was counted by the number of fallen snowflakes. One, two, three, four, everything's too white; there should be some red in it, seven, eight, nine-

"Envy's been around for centuries," He began, "I can never remember how many exactly. It's as if…He's waited so long, he's given up on hoping."

"But if he's been around that long with no results, then what's to say we won't?"

This time, the silence wasn't broken.

xxx

Perhaps the hardest part of being a homunculus was the fact that there was always the chance you'd pass someone who knew who you were, but you'd never be able to remember them.

Not to mention what sort of chaos would be caused if someone actually knew what a homunculus was and recognized you for one.

For this reason, cloaks, long jackets, and other sorts of covering were always in fashion with the homunculi.

But there was the rare need to go into Central's market and buy something like normal humans. And Lust was usually the one to be sent.

It was one of those cool sorts of days, towards the end of winter, when it could snow, or it couldn't. When a blossom, perhaps light pink and on the tip of a tree, was rare, but precious.

And in the thin layer of snow, the youngest homunculus trudged on, cloaked in a long, black coat tipped by a fur collar. Used to be the old Lust's, or so the others said. She carried nothing more than a simple brown paper bag, filled with some things that were rather common. And so, walking back to the homunculi's base, she least expected to be noticed.

Actually, she hadn't. Some Ishbalan had caused some trouble, and so blending in was easy. It hadn't been until she passed a blond teen, clad in a red jacket, had the trouble begun.

Nothing happened at first, really. They walked by each other, and she noted that he seemed…Familiar. Perhaps she'd seen him around here before? She'd been here enough.

It hadn't actually been until a few feet away that he started shouted something. But, you know, it didn't really matter to the homunculus.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye!"

That did sound familiar, and there weren't many "Lieutenants" that weren't in the military. Ah well, she'd seen people from central headquarters come down for whatever reason.

It was when he called again she began to note that it sounded a bit too familiar. The last she needed was to run into someone who might… No, not now. Lust walked on, since it wouldn't help to turn around.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye! Riza! Please, wait up!"

Perhaps, if he hadn't said he name, she wouldn't have remembered. All those times-

Lieutenant Hawkeye, keep your dog under control!

Oh, Lieutenant Hawkeye, it's you. What is it? I thought you had the day off.

Damnit, Riza, you're not supposed to die before me!

Perhaps it was that which caused her to glance back. Oh yes, she has a good look at him now; not as short as she suspected, with golden hair kept back in a ponytail, and a red jacket that could almost pose as a cloak. It was much too familiar, but why wasn't his hair in a braid?

Edward's disappeared, sir. So has Alphonse. There's been no sign of them for weeks.

He stopped dead in his tracks at that point. A touch of horror had entered his grey eyes, and she realized that only Envy's shape changing could change eye color. (And not many people had violet eyes)

At this point, she figured it was the right time to leave. But, alas, he said something more:

"It was Colonel Mustang, wasn't it?"

She stopped dead, then. If anything, that brought back more.

Colonel Mustang, those papers won't do themselves.

Colonel, you're useless on rainy days. Please stay out of this.

Colonel Mustang, you mission is simple…

It's raining.

The slight freezing touch, like the tickle of a butterfly's wing, snapped Lust from her paralyzing string of memories.

Slowly, she raised her head skyward to see what had caused this. She heard the teen say something.

"Oh," He began, "It's snowing."

It was then and there, in the falling snow, that Lust made up her mind. But first, she turned to glance at him again, and whisper,

"Thank you."

xxx

Automail, he realized, was amazing. Yes, it did stiffen when winter held her grasp tight, but that was to be expected. And it was one of those things you could cover up, and no one could tell.

For this, he was grateful. For when he passed someone who might recognize him, he preferred to causally mention retirement, as apposed to the truth. (Because what they didn't know couldn't hurt them.)

And when they asked him where he was going? Oh, just a walk around central, a last time before he started his trip. To where? They'd ask, and oh, just Xing, to study some foreign alchemy. No on really bothered to ask much more, and didn't really notice his subtle change in direction. Because, really, who would care?

In this weather, it was hard to see the labels on the old warehouses. Perhaps covered in a layer of ice, or peeling from the cold temperatures. But one thing was for sure; it was easy to tell which were marked, and which one wasn't.

Ah. Yes. There.

The ex-Colonel briefly remembered the last time he was here; rain dripping along the walls, clattering on the roof, dragging away blood-

Perhaps it was better not to remember.

He stood there, staring at that old, forlorn place, gaze trailing the way they had come. It'd been so long, but…

The rip in the side, there it was. Nothing to stop him, and he found his legs pulling himself there unconsciously. But something stopped him.

Maybe it had left there on purpose, but that wasn't the kind of thing that would. A lock of hair, which, in his opinion, was much too familiar, clung the ragged edge of the gash. And around it, a coating of old, frozen blood that looked more like a warning than an accident.

Perhaps, he thought wearily, that was enough proof to turn him back?

But just then, a dog barked. It could be said that if this dog had not broken free of his temporary master's command for the scent of someone more familiar, and, once close enough, barked, our story might have well come to an end. For, at that moment, as the ex-Colonel would soon discover, the Fuhrer's secretary happened to be heading that way.

And, perhaps if the Colonel had not been quick enough to slip into the warehouse, unnoticed, and Black Hayate not clever enough to know to stop barking, then there wouldn't be an ex-Colonel to tell about.

But luckily, all these events had happened, and so Sloth waked past the Unmarked Warehouse, Roy hide there, silently, until she was gone, and Black Hayate had turned to pursue a phantom rabbit as to avoid suspicion.

And it happened, too, that Black Hayate found a more appealing thing to pursue then his Phantom Squirrel. Although Roy knew nothing of this, he silently thanked the dog.

While waiting there, in the gripping cold, waiting for a homunculus to gain enough distance away from him, he, too, decided something.

He must leave Central, for it was no longer safe.

But to where?...

xxx

There's a point, after you write enough little one-shots, that you have to stop, slap yourself, and say "Get back to your chapter fic!"

…Good thing I did that.

Don't worry, this isn't over yet. A lack of updates usually means a lack of inspiration. Eh…-sweatdrop-

Anyone who can guess who that was gets a cookie.

Read and Review, please!