So, um, yeah. I'm not entirely sure what inspired me to write this, but I figure it's worth sharing. It'll be at least in two parts (I'm working on the second one right now). I have a million and five ideas I want to tie into this story, and hopefully in the second part things will sort of round out. I may wind up writing a third one; I'm not sure yet. In the meantime, though, feedback is greatly appreciated. I particularly would like to know how well I portrayed Roy and Riza in this, seeing as how this is the first FMA fic I've written.

Ainslie sat at the kitchen table, drawing on sheets of white paper that Riza had set out for her. The little girl poked her tongue out in concentration, making deliberate lines with her pencil. Riza smiled at her. For the past few months, Ainslie came over every day while her mother was at work. It was some timing, too – right after Riza took maternal leave. She rested a hand atop her protruding belly and thought back to when Elsa knocked on her door.

"I'm sorry this is so short notice," the dark-skinned woman started, "but I have to go to work, and I can't find anyone who will watch Ainslie. I know I'm asking a lot of you, Riza, but could you watch her? Please?" It was raining, and the two of them stood outside underneath Elsa's umbrella. Ainslie, all of five years old, looked up with dark, round eyes, shining innocently. Something inside of Riza's heart melted, and she ushered the little girl inside.

Riza hadn't asked why her neighbor so suddenly needed a babysitter, but it didn't take Sherlock Holmes to figure it out. The weeks prior to Elsa's request held all of the answers. Things were tumultuous between her and her husband, and even from across the street arguing and things being thrown could be heard. No one said anything about it, but everyone understood what happened after the house quieted down again.

Unfortunately, the other neighbors didn't take too kindly to Elsa when she asked them to babysit for her. Amestrians weren't exactly known for their hospitality towards foreigners, and they made no exception in Elsa's case. Riza was, in fact, hesitant to do this one favor for her, having just found out that she was pregnant. She couldn't, however, turn away a cute little girl like Ainslie, and she definitely couldn't deny a neighbor in dire need.

So, every day since then, Ainslie would come over and keep Riza company. It wasn't so bad; Roy was gone during the day, and it got lonely with just Black Hayate around. The refrigerator was soon covered with Ainslie's artwork. She drew portraits of herself, Elsa, Riza, her father, sometimes Roy, but mostly Black Hayate. He seemed to be her favorite subject. She was a quiet girl and could keep herself entertained for hours. She was incredibly sweet, too, offering to help Riza wash the breakfast dishes and helping to put away groceries. She really wasn't a bother at all. It was a shame no one gave her a chance.

The timer on the oven rang shrilly, reminding Riza that she had a cherry pie baking inside. The smell of it filled the entire house – warm, sweet, and almost tortuous. Grabbing a couple of dish towels, she reached into the oven to pull the pastry out. Ainslie looked up, eyes glittering with anticipation, and climbed out of her chair to get a closer look at the pie.

"It smells yummy, Aunt Riza!" Ainslie's eyes followed the pie as Riza sat it on top of the counter. "Cherry pie's my favorite."

"That's what your mother was telling me the other day," Riza commented. "She says you could eat cherry pie day and night and never get sick of it."

"Mmhm! She makes the best cherry pie!" The girl beamed.

"I'd like to taste it sometime."

"I'll ask, but…" Her grin faded. "Mommy's busy all the time. When she gets home she's always tired. She doesn't bake anymore." Ainslie stared down at the table. "She says one day she'll make another pie for me, but every time she tells me she's gonna she either gets called in to work or she sleeps all day."

"Don't worry, Ainslie. Someday she'll get to make a pie." Without really thinking much of it, Riza bent over to kiss the girl atop her head. "In the meantime, you can have some of my pie when it cools off. I don't think it'll be quite as good, but hopefully you'll like it."

Ainslie smiled again, although this time it was definitely weaker than before.

At half-past five, Roy opened the front door. He ran one of his hands tiredly through his mop of rain-soaked hair and saw Ainslie rolling on the floor with Black Hayate. He could see black and white dog hair stuck in Ainslie's brown pigtails. The dog immediately bounced up to greet his master's husband. Ainslie sat up and smiled.

"Welcome home, Uncle Roy!" she said over Black Hayate's barking. Riza came into the room in response to all of the commotion.

"Welcome home indeed. You look exhausted, Roy."

"I am exhausted." With his trademark smirk, Roy approaches her and plants a short, sweet kiss on her lips. "It's not so bad, though. I've got you, after all."

While husband and wife greeted each other, Ainslie bounded off into the kitchen, returning with one of her masterpieces.

"Look, Uncle Roy! I drew a picture of you!" She waved the piece of paper excitedly, and Roy plucked it from her fingers to examine it closely.

"Hmmm…" He furrowed his brow and cupped his free hand around his mouth. "I think…"

"What do you think, Uncle Roy?"

"I think…it's your best drawing yet! I love it!" Roy's face cracked into a huge grin, and he knelt down to hug Ainslie. "This is going in a frame on my desk so everyone at headquarters can see what an amazing artist you are!"

"Thanks, Uncle Roy!" Ainslie giggled. Her giggles became louder and more frantic as Roy began tickling her. She wriggled and squirmed until she was finally able to escape his fingertips of doom, exhausted from laughing too much. She knelt on the floor, and Black Hayate came over to lick her face, yipping happily. The little girl laughed once more, wrapping her arms around the dog's neck. Riza couldn't help but smile at how well the three of them got along together. It felt like Ainslie was a part of the family.

Riza eyed the clock. It was getting close to eight. Elsa should have been by to collect Ainslie over an hour ago. Ainslie sat at the front window, waiting to see her mother's short, stocky frame coming through the rain, usually with some candy as a reward for being good, as well as a thank you present for Riza (she refused to accept money as payment). Roy had reclaimed his armchair, reading the evening paper. Hayate curled up at his feet. Ainslie sighed and continued waiting.

She waited and waited until the telephone in the kitchen rang. Riza rushed to it before anyone could react.

"Hello, Mustang residence… Yes… Alright." Riza covered the mouthpiece with her hand. "Roy, it's for you."

Raising an eyebrow, Roy folded his paper and went to answer the call. Riza stood by him as he spoke, her face lined with worry. Ainslie strained to hear what Roy was saying, but it was in vain; Roy made sure to keep his voice too low for her to pick up. A strange fear began to seize her. She stared at the doorway to the kitchen as Roy and Riza returned, their expressions grim.

"Aunt Riza?" she started softly. "Uncle Roy? What's wrong? Why do you look so sad?"

A tear slipped out of the corner of Riza's eye.

"Ainslie," she whispered, "do you know where your mother hid the spare house key?"

"She puts it under the door mat. Why?"

"How would you like to spend the night with us?" her voice wavered at the end of her question.

Normally, Ainslie would have been ecstatic at such a proposition. Now, though, she felt unsure. Something bad must have happened. Meekly, she nodded her head.

"Okay, but where's Mommy?" she looked up at Riza with the same eyes she had when Elsa asked her to watch her during the day. Riza nearly died.

"We'll talk about that in the morning, sweetheart," Roy answered for her. He whispered to Riza, "I'll go with her. You should probably go rest right now."

She silently complied, fighting back the rest of her tears. This wasn't right. She was supposed to be the one who was calm and level-headed in situations like these. She's supposed to know what to say. Sure she was more emotional than usual because of her hormones, but still.

How am I supposed to explain this to a child?

Riza's stomach churned as a new doubt surfaced in her mind.

Roy felt underwhelmed when he stepped inside the house. A worn couch sat in front of the fireplace, and an end table stood next to it. The carpet underneath was stained, as was the couch, and a gloominess was cast across the room. He followed Ainslie to the back of the house, where her small room was tucked away in a corner. On top of a humble bed were threadbare sheets and a teddy bear. Across from it were a cheap wooden dresser and a small box of toys. The walls were decorated with the drawings Ainslie had taken home with her over the past few months, and in one corner of the room were a pile of even more drawings and a box of worn-down crayons.

Awkwardly, Roy sat down on the bed as Ainslie pulled open drawers to find a pair of pajamas and clothes for tomorrow. He started to open his mouth, wanting to tell her to bring more of her clothes, but the words wouldn't come out. He couldn't think of a gentle way to explain it to her. Instead, Roy sighed and stared down at his feet, feeling large and out of place in a young girl's bedroom. Ainslie heard him and stopped packing her overnight bag.

"What's wrong, Uncle Roy? You seem really tired." She looked at him inquisitively.

"It's…it's nothing, Ainslie. Is there anything else you want to take with you?"

Ainslie took a quick, appraising look around her bedroom. She pointed at the teddy bear next to Roy.

"I wanna bring Percival with me! He sleeps with me every night!"

"Okay, anything else?" Roy took a moment to think. She had a change of clothes, pajamas, the bear. He looked around. "Do you want to take your drawings with you?"

"Why? I'm coming back, aren't I?"

Roy bit his lip.

"I… guess you are! Silly me." He faked a cheerful smile. Ainslie wasn't entirely convinced by it, but it was enough to keep her from asking any more questions. "How about a comb or brush? Aunt Riza will have to do your hair tonight. You've got Black Hayate's fur all over." Ainslie nodded and skipped out of the room at his suggestion. "And don't forget a toothbrush either!" Sighing, Roy picked up the girl's bag and teddy bear. He waited for her in the doorway and held the bag open for her to drop the toiletries in when she returned.

As the two of them headed back across the street, Ainslie held tightly to Roy's hand. She listened to the rhythm of his heavy boots clapping against the wet cobblestones; for each step he took she had to take three or four. It reminded her of her father whenever he'd take her to the park. He'd hold her hand the way Roy held her hand now. Sometimes he would even lift her up on his shoulders and run across the playground. She missed him. She missed him badly. Tears spilled over Ainslie's cheeks.

Ainslie curled up in a ball under the quilt, clutching Percival to her chest. This bed smelled strange, unfamiliar. It was still raining, and she hadn't heard anything about her mother. She cried silently, burying her face in Percival's back. This loneliness was new to her. It wasn't the same as the Amestrian kids excluding her when she went to the park. It was more profound than that.

From the next room over, she could hear Roy and Riza talking. Their voices were low and serious, just like before. There was a silence, followed by muffled sobs. Cautiously, Ainslie slipped out of the bed, padding across the room to the doorway, carrying Percival with her. She opened the door just enough for her to squeeze through and tried the knob on the other bedroom. Poking her head inside, she could see Roy and Riza standing together, Riza crying into Roy's shoulder. He held her close, shushing her, not noticing that Ainslie had snuck in.

Ainslie opened the door the rest of the way and approached the two of them.

"Uncle Roy? Aunt Riza?" She tugged on the leg of Roy's pajamas. "Why is she crying? What's wrong?"

With a wistful look in his eyes, Roy knelt down to scoop Ainslie up in his arms.

"Something really bad happened, Ainslie." He looked at her without really looking at her, gazing past her. Riza sat on the bed, her hands covering her face.

"What happened?" she asked innocently.

No one spoke. A thick silence hung in the air, suffocating all of them. A million and one things ran through Roy's head, and none of them could give him a clue as to how to break the news to this girl. It was a damn shame. She did nothing wrong. Why did life have to be so difficult for her? And the cruelness of it all was that she didn't even realize how hard it was. Roy hugged her tightly, fighting to control his own emotions.

"Ainslie… Your mommy had to go away," he said at length.

Riza's sobs started again, loud and unbridled. Her entire body shook. This was too much for her to sit through. She heaved herself off of the bed and rushed out of the room as quickly as her condition would allow her. Ainslie watched her leave, her eyes wide and glassy.

"Where did she go? Why did she have to leave? Will I see her again?"

"No, Ainslie. She went somewhere she's not coming back."

"Why not?" Her voice squeaked. "She's supposed to come back! She has to!" With a blink, thetears that had welled up behind her eyes poured over like a waterfall. She hid her face in Roy's shoulder, clutching fistfuls of his shirt. "She has to come back! She has to come back and make her cherry pie for me! Aunt Riza said she would!"

It was a small funeral. Only Roy, Riza, Ainslie, and a few of the neighbors showed up. The sky was clouded, depressing, threatening to rain more on them. Ainslie clung to Riza's legs, staring as the casket was lowered into the ground. Images of Elsa's body in the casket plagued her. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

She's not coming back.

A lump formed in Ainslie's throat, and she choked to get it out, starting with a silent sob, escalating to a scream. Everyone was silent. Riza, who was unaware of her own tears, fell to her knees, crying as she pulled Ainslie into her arms. Memories from her own mother's funeral surfaced: how she couldn't understand what had happened until she saw the body, how she couldn't stop crying no matter what anyone did to try to console her. She felt helpless, alone, abandoned. Everything she felt on that day she could feel now, and it hurt that much more for Ainslie.

"I'm sorry, Ainslie," she whispered. "I'm so, so sorry."

"You lied to me!" Ainslie screamed as loud as her lungs would allow. "You told me she'd come back and bake me a pie! You lied to me!" She wrestled her way out of Riza's arms, running across the cemetery. Riza's arms fell limp.

Why am I so useless? I should be able to relate to her, understand what she's going through. Why can't I help her? Why can't I do anything? What am I supposed to do? What am I going to do when it's my own child instead? Riza suffocated in her own thoughts, cursing herself. Everyone watched with sympathetic faces, not entirely understanding the grief they were witness to.

Ainslie sat under a massive oak tree, crying into her arms. Roy followed the sound of her sobs to locate her in the massive field. Ainslie heard his heavy footsteps against the soft ground, but she made no move to acknowledge him. She hated him and everyone else for lying to her and putting her mother in the ground. That wasn't supposed to happen.

"Ainslie," he said in his best fatherly voice. "Ainslie, look at me."

"Why?" Ainslie sniffled. "What do you want?"

He squatted down in front of her, coaxing her head up with his fingertip. She refused to make eye contact.

"You're a pretty little girl," he marveled with a slight smile. "No wonder Aunt Riza was so taken by you. You look like her a little."

"I hate her," she said, turning away. "She lied to me."

"She didn't mean to. Hey." He nudged her. "She didn't know this was going to happen. None of us did. I know you're angry and hurt, but you shouldn't blame her. She feels really bad about it, you know."

"She does?"

"She feels horrible about it, Ainslie."

"I bet she doesn't!" She pouted, crossing her arms.

"You have no idea." Roy looked up at the sky. The clouds had no discernable shape; it looked as if the sky itself was gray. He took a second to get his bearings. "You know, when Aunt Riza was a little girl, she lost her mother."

Ainslie watched Roy out of the corner of her eye.

"She was really devastated when that happened. It took her a long time to come to terms with it." He lowered his head to face Ainslie again. "She really wants to help you, Ainslie. If anyone knows what you're going through, it's her." With a gentle hand, he ruffles the top of Ainslie's head, making her bushy hair stand up in spots. "She sort of sees you as her own daughter. She'd hate to see you upset like this, especially at her." Roy picked her up, lifting her high above his head before bringing her close for a warm embrace. "Come on, let's head back."

As they made their way back to the grave, Roy lifted Ainslie up and sat her upon his shoulders, holding on to her ankles. Ainslie looked up to the sky and saw the gray blanket begin to part, sunlight spilling through the crack. It warmed her face, and she found herself smiling. Riza saw them in the distance and pulled herself up off of the ground. Ainslie waved to her, and then pointed to the sky.

"Look! She's smiling!" Ainslie shouted. "My mommy's smiling!"