AN: This is a manga-verse story set somewhere between the move to Central and Ross' 'death.' Hughes *is* dead in this fic.

Expect chapters of all sizes and screen time for minor characters. This story is completed, but is currently undergoing minor edits and rewrites, including rearranging content to fit in the chapters originally planned. Not quite sure how FF is going to handle all these edits, so sorry if I end up spamming anyone's inbox.

This story was my first ever fan-fic. I hope you'll let me know how I did. Thanks!

White flakes of snow danced outside the home of a certain alchemist and his cat-loving younger brother. The windows were frozen shut and frost crept across the panes of glass, obscuring the chaotic scene within from the few pedestrians foolish enough to be outside. With every passing moment the door to the apartment seemed to swell, as if struggling to hold back a flood. And it was. It was struggling to hold back the sound of yet another Elric tantrum.

Though it had been sound-proofed through alchemy long ago by its volatile residents, it seemed as though the door would simply shatter from the forced effort of holding back a steadily growing tempest of angry words and violent emotions. Groaning wood gave way suddenly as an angry steel foot kicked down the door, ending its years of silent suffering as the barrier between the rest of Amestris and the volatile lives of the Elric boys.

A fuming figure stalked angrily out of the now empty doorway, ignoring the indignant screams behind him as he left Alphonse to clean up his mess. Dressed in a bright crimson jacket that contrasted sharply with his white surroundings, the moody teenager marched off into the near empty streets of Central. Without breaking his stride, the petite male shoved his flesh hand into the pocket of his vibrant jacket and withdrew two white gloves. Quickly slipping them onto his hands and jerking his fur-trimmed hood over conspicuous golden hair, the blond stopped at the split in the road before choosing the street to his left that led to Central Command and the Bastard Colonel.

"Might as well let that bastard know Al and I are back from Resembool. Besides, now I can get back at that jerk for filling our apartment with all those stupid cats!" His gold eyes glinted with malicious intent as his mouth slid into an anticipating grin. "This is all his fault! That idiot knows I can't let Al have a cat! It's not like we can drag something like that all over the country. It's all his fault that Alphonse is so pissed. I can't help if it's snowing outside! Besides, it's not like the little bastards'll freeze! They've got fur for crying out loud!"

Busily ranting and planning his revenge for the Bastard Colonel, Ed didn't notice when a pale figure walked out of an alley and began following him. He also didn't notice the mysterious person speed up until they were just behind the preoccupied alchemist. He didn't notice the white cloth with a cloyingly sweet smell in their hand. But he did notice the menacing shadow that suddenly covered his own.

"Who the-?" was all the surprised teenager managed to say before he was tackled from behind, the cloth roughly shoved over his mouth. He struggled violently for all of thirty seconds while his masked adversary waited for the drug to take effect. When the unlucky blond finally lost his grip on consciousness, the figure in white let the cloth fall to the snow-covered ground and began dragging their victim to the shadow of a nearby alley.

In the relative darkness of that convenient alley, the masked form crouched over the unconscious form of Edward Elric and calmly began stripping him of all identifying possessions. His warm red coat was roughly pulled off his arms and hurled into one of the dumpsters lining the walls of the alley, leaving him to shiver on the snow covered ground. Next to go was the silver pocket watch clipped to his belt. The masked figure turned it over in its hands for a few moments before resigning it to the trash heap as well. Resuming its methodical work, it searched the limp teen's pockets for anything else that could be used to identify him. Finding nothing, the figure quickly shed its long, bulky white coat, revealing a form-fitting trench coat. Now revealed to be a definite female, the woman pulled the young male into a sitting position and shoved his arms through the white coat before letting him slump against the wall behind him.

She observed him calmly for a moment, carefully going over his body to search for any other identifying characteristics. When her eyes reached his face, she cursed softly and shifted the boy so she could reach one of the many pockets of the white coat. After shoving him over so she could reach farther into the deep pocket, a tinted glass bottle was finally freed from its cloth prison.

The still masked woman flipped Edward over onto his stomach and tugged his hair free of trademark braid. Quickly finger-combing through the silky, golden hair, she arranged it so it covered his shoulders in an even, straight line. She set the dark colored bottle onto the cold ground and revealed another white cloth. She opened the container and soaked the rag in the sharp smelling chemical before pouring the rest of the contents over the boy's hair. She worked the chemical further into his hair, making certain every strand was covered with bleach before maneuvering him into a sitting position again. She twisted his head from side to side and tapping his face lightly for good measure. Convinced that he was still firmly in the hold of the chloroform, she scooped up the empty bottle and chemically-soaked cloth and stalked over to the same dumpster that held the unfortunate male's coat.

She dropped the evidence into the trash bin, whipping her head around when the crack of broken glass reached her ears. When she was sure no one was coming to investigate the sound, she pulled off her white gloves. Tossing them carelessly into the dumpster, she let out a sigh of pleasure and flexed her naked hands in the sudden cold before finally pulling off and discarding her mask.

She was a brown-eyed beauty with light brown hair that swung at her shoulders, almost as if irritated with being stuffed into the prison of her full-face mask. She stalked over to the small form leaning against the alley wall. The snow melting in his hair had already washed out most of the bleach soaked in his hair, but it had done its work. No one would recognize the boy before her as the Fullmetal Alchemist. He was all hers.