Disclaimer: I do not own "Full Metal Alchemist" and am not making any money by writing this.

This story is referencing Chapter 62, page 41 in the manga, which can be found here (remove spaces):

onemanga . com/Full_Metal_Alchemist/62/41/

"Naruto" fanfic readers, I haven't abandoned my favorite ship. I just found another ship to obsess over and write about is all. I will finish "New Year," even if takes me into the next New Year!


The first thing that tipped me off was their scent: Forever together, forever entwined. Wherever he went, she went. Wherever she went, he went. And even when they weren't together, she still carried his scent and he carried hers because, as I said, they're forever together, forever entwined.

One fateful day, after an enjoyable day in the park, I smelled it even while we were still out in the hall. I knew even before she unlocked and swung open the door to our home, but when that door did swing open, both our eyes confirmed it...Ten dozen roses overflowed the room, permeating the small space with their sweet, lovely scent. And hidden amongst it all was a slight hint of his scent.

She walked up to one of the beautiful floral arrangements, pulled out a small piece of paper, unfolded it, and softly read out loud the words written upon it in astonishment: "You are my queen." She stepped towards another bouquet, and another, and another, each time unfolding an identical piece of paper and each time reading out loud the same four words: "You are my queen."

Personally, the words have no meaning to me. After all, the only words I understand are "NO!" "Food!" "Here boy!" and "Good boy!" in that order, but apparently these foreign words "You Are My Queen" mean a lot to her. Now clutching the pile of cards to her chest, she repeats these same words over and over again, like a chant. Like a mantra.

Then, I smell his scent, no longer a hint, but strong and present. I turn my head to the open doorway even before he steps over its threshold and announces himself with the softly spoken words of "Hello, Hawkeye."

She turns to him, eyes wide, pile of cards clutched ever so much tighter against her chest and asks him in total confusion "What does this all mean, Colonel?"

He steps up to her so that once again his scent twines with hers and hers twines with his and he tells her gently, though matter-of-factly "It means that I can't ever lose you because that is who you are to me."

Then, he places his hand on her cheek, slowly lowers his head down at the same time she tilts hers up, and ever so lightly, his lips touch hers and hers touch his.

When they finally part, their foreheads remain touching and their eyes remain closed. When she speaks, her words are as warm as the air around us and just as comforting "...And I can never lose you because I'd rather die than go through life without you."

Their eyes slowly open and then they're looking at each other, his hand still cupped against the side of her face and her arms still clutched around his cards in a loving embrace. And in that one look, they tell each other something meaningful without a single spoken word.

They start to make their way towards the room in which she and I sleep and I start to follow them, but she gently picks me up right as I enter the room and tells me softly "I'm sorry, but not tonight." Then she carefully sits me on the other side of the door's threshold and quietly closes the door behind her.

Not knowing what else to do, I lower myself down onto my belly, rest my head on my paws, and wait and listen, hoping she'll let me back in.

But the door never opens.

My ears automatically prick up when I hear her voice and his through the door, speaking so low that even I can barely hear them. Then there's silence and rustling and their voices once again, but they're no longer speaking words. Her voice comes out as a soft cry and I immediately jump up and scratch at the door's edge, wanting to rush in to save her, but then her cry turns into a moan quickly followed by a similar moan...his.

And so the night progresses with the strange sounds continuing through the thin wooden door. I'm not sure of what's happening on the other side, but I can sense that neither one of them are in danger, and so, I lower myself back down onto my stomach, rest my head back on my paws, and eventually fall asleep listening to his voice twined with hers and hers twined with his.

When the door finally opens, it's a new day and the scent, their scent wafts out from the room stronger than ever before. It isn't repulsive, though. If anything, it seems fitting because his scent had always lingered on her and her scent had always lingered on him. No, this is natural. This is right.

Once he leaves, the rest of the day progresses normally: She takes me out, lets me back in, feeds me, then leaves for the day and doesn't come back until all the rooms in the house are dark with night. And as usual, I loyally sit in front of the front door and wait for her to come through it to welcome her back home.

But when the time comes for her to unlock and open that door, it is not her scent alone I smell. It is their scent and it is not simply his scent lingering faintly on hers like it always does. It is strong because he is with her. And when the door opens, sure enough he is standing so close at her side that their arms lightly touch.

But although they're together, she doesn't treat me any differently. Like always, she lowers herself down and pulls me up in a warm embrace, kisses the top of my furry head and I eagerly lick her face. And like always, she laughs, but this time her laugh is intermixed with his.

In everything we do, he is now a part of it:

He is with us when she takes me out for our usual evening walk, and he is with us when we go back home for dinner. He is with us when she settles down in her favorite chair in the corner, but this time she doesn't read one of her many books. Instead, he sits on one side of the sofa while she lays her head in his lap. In this fashion, they speak soft spoken words to each other until the light outside grows darker and darker. Yet one thing remains the same: her hand still lolls out from the edge of the seat as she gently rubs my head.

Evening has turned to night, but still he does not leave. Once again, they make their way to the room in which she and I sleep, and once again she gently lifts me up and sits me outside the door when I start to follow them.

"I'm so sorry," she says, "But not tonight either."

To make amends, she lays a blanket on the floor next to the door and bundles it up into a nest.

"Someday soon, okay? But just not tonight."

And like the other night, I fall asleep to the sound of his voice intertwined with hers.

One night turns into another and another, and then, finally one day, they let me in. I eagerly jump into the bed where they both are and happily lick their faces as they both continue to laugh. Now it is her scent, and his scent, and my scent forever together, forever entwined.

Time passes and we all three are comfortable with each other. The house also now smells strongly of his scent because his things are now interspersed with hers, but again, it feels natural. It feels right. It feels long overdue.

Then one day, I notice something different. As I rest my head on her lap as she wipes and cleans something that she lovingly calls her "gun" I find that her lap has grown smaller. Or has her stomach grown bigger? I'm not sure, but I think it might be both. They both notice my dilemma and they both softly laugh.

"No more room on her lap, huh?" he says jovially. "Don't worry, in a few months you can have it back again."

I don't understand the words he says, but from his tone and from their laughter, I sense that it'll be alright even if for some mysterious reason her lap has shrunk.

A piercing cry in the night jolts me from my sleep at the foot of the bed, and everything is in sudden chaos. I don't understand what's going on, but he's jumping out of bed and rushing to her side, trying to help her get up. Her tummy is now the biggest I've ever seen it. She is crying in pain, but I can't see what is causing that pain. I don't see any enemy to fight, I don't see any wounds on her body. So I merely stand at her feet and look up at her whimpering, but it is me she tries to comfort.

"It's okay," she says gently between panting breaths. "It'll be all over soon and we'll all be together again."

And with that, she and he are gone and I'm left alone in an empty house wondering what the hell just happened.

It is night again when I smell their scent nearing the closed front door. My tail thumps eagerly behind me as I wait for the door to swing open so that I can rush to them and lick their faces, but when the door opens, something instinctively stops me in my tracks. Their heads are bowed low over a bundle of blankets hugged tightly to her chest, and they're speaking in low, soothing voices. I don't understand it, but I follow them into the house and watch curiously as she carefully sits down on the sofa and he sits carefully next to her, undoing the bundle of blankets in her arms.

And then, a small human arm with fingers curled up into a small human fist pops out, and then I'm really confused. It's the scent, their scent, his and hers together that I smell emanating so strongly from this strange, miniature human being. It seems impossible. This thing, this new person should have its own scent, but it doesn't. Instead, its scent is what used to belong only to two separate people. In some strange way, this new entity is truly a combination of him and her.

I slowly inch forward, fearing that my humans will push me away, but they only look down at me with kind eyes and gentle smiles. And then, I see the whole picture. This...human...has hair as dark as his and I don't know why, but they keep referring to it as "him."

"It's okay," she murmurs, "You can look at him."

"You can touch him, but just be gentle okay?" he says.

I don't know what they're saying, but I think it's best to simply lay my head on his lap since hers is already taken by "him."

Time passes again and you'd think that I'd be jealous, but in all honesty I'm not. This "him" is big enough now so that it can walk (or do its weird, waddling version of a walk). And when he and she don't have time for me, this "him" always does, always taking the time to gently pat my fur and lovingly call me "TeTe." Not to mention that this "him" has no qualms about sharing her lap. So all in all, no, I'm not jealous at all. The only feelings I have for "him" are the feelings I originally only had for her...the need to protect and to love. Because, after all, this "him" is a living, breathing version of him and her forever together, forever entwined.

The End

Yes, this is all written in Black Hayate's point of view. : )