Lessons in Life and Love

Title: You Can't Hurry Love
Author: NekoEro
Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist nor do I make any money from the writing of this fic.

Summary: Futurefic. Ed has grown far too comfortable in his intimate relationship with Winry and his self-centeredness coupled with his tendency to be an outright oblivious idiot leads to their breakup. Will Ed learn what love really is and that there’s more to being a man than just being of legal age and being in a sexual relationship? This is the second of three stories in the “Lessons in Life and Love” series.

April 1, 2010

At last! An update! This ended up being my entry for FMA Big Bang on LJ, which means it's over 27,150 words which made it necessary to break it up into three parts. Equivalent Exchange will be the next and final story to the LLL series.



You Can’t Hurry Love

Part One


Ed was hot.

Not as hot as he had felt when crossing the desert on his unplanned journey to the Cselkcess ruins several years back, but his discomfort level was definitely up there. Rush Valley seemed to be experiencing an uncommon heat wave, even for this region of Amestris, and it had chased most all the local inhabitants indoors to escape the heat.

Ed shifted his jacket, which he carried slung over his shoulder, so the air could pass over his neck and cool him. The effort was useless in these high temperatures and he took an absent swipe at the bead of sweat that fell from his brow. Even with his hair tied up into a messy ponytail, it did nothing to relieve his ongoing distress.

‘Guess I should have dressed light, like Al did,’ Ed thought to himself with regret and glanced down at his favored attire of heavy, black clothing. ‘I just didn’t expect that the walk from the train station would be this uncomfortable.’

He threw a look over his shoulder at Al, who seemed unflappable and downright comfortable as he trailed behind, looking about the nearly deserted streets, and acting for all the world like a curious tourist. His younger brother had dressed more appropriately for the climate, wearing lightweight, light-colored clothing, his shirt short-sleeved. Ed’s face contorted into a grimace; there was no way he was going to complain about the heat in front of Al because he knew his younger brother would take on their mother’s chastising tone, reminding him that he had given due warning about the weather and the need for lighter clothing.

So he continued on in silence, ignoring his discomfort and keeping a wary eye out for any activity along the numerous storefronts for overzealous automail mechanics. He didn’t care for Rush Valley, not since he had been stripped to his boxers in the middle of the street in broad daylight by a group of crazed automail engineers, just so they could examine Winry’s work. Yet, as much as he disliked coming here, this was where Winry was currently residing and it was necessary for him to be here because he was in need of her care.

Or at the very least, in need of her.

“Ed, how mad do you think Winry will be this time?” his younger brother asked, looking about nervously as he tapped his fingertips together. For an instant, Ed recalled the same gesture once performed by a hulking suit of armor and a brief smile crossed his face; even in his human form, Al’s body language had changed very little. “Hey, I didn’t break her precious automail this time,” Ed replied flippantly, “Why should she get mad just because I’m stopping by for a routine tune-up.” He used the back of his natural hand to swipe at another droplet of sweat as it slipped down the side of his face.

Al looked down at the back of his older brother’s head with a bit of surprise, then grinned, “You don’t seem too concerned, Brother. Are you sure you’re only stopping by for a tune-up?”

Ed’s shoulders stiffened as he heard Al stifle a giggle. “Shut up,” he growled without turning around, “You don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. My fucking leg is malfunctioning. I need Winry to check it out.”

“You sure your leg is the only thing you want her to ‘check out’? “ Al’s voice was calm, innocent sounding but mirth danced in his eyes, “Or should I ask, which leg.”

Ed stopped short, nearly causing Al to collide with him. “Al,” his voice was low, threatening.

“Relax, Brother,” Al soothed, “What’s going on between you and Winry isn’t exactly a secret. I’m happy for both of you, really.”

Ed chose not rise to the bait and picked up the pace, walking away from Al and forcing him to trot for a few steps to catch up. He had never discussed his new bond with Winry with his brother and wasn’t about to start now. It was a private matter to him, details of which didn’t need to be known by anyone else. Ed wasn’t sure if it was an old habit, one in which silence meant Winry’s safety, or that he simply felt uncomfortable discussing it with his younger brother. It wasn’t as if there were any remaining dangers lurking about that Winry needed to be kept safe from, or anything Al hadn’t already discovered about girls on his own. It just seemed…improper…to talk to others about his intimate activities with her.

As they walked on, Ed’s thoughts shifted to that very special and very exhilarating relationship he shared with Winry and suppressed a grin. Ever since their first time, when she had surprised him in the shower, the young woman had occupied most of his waking thoughts and it drove him to be with her whenever he could. It was just a convenient coincidence his that leg was in actual need of maintenance; it had given him the perfect excuse to travel to Rush Valley and Ed wasn’t about to pass up a chance to see her.

Winry had returned to the remote desert location only a short month ago to finish her apprenticeship under the tutelage of the flamboyant automail engineer, Garfiel, her last step before becoming a certified engineer, herself. While Ed hated to come to Rush Valley and sincerely wished he could have waited until Winry had returned to Resembool, he trusted no one other than his childhood friend, now his lover, to perform the repairs; she had designed and crafted his limbs and would best know how to fix them. Besides, she would be furious if he let anyone else so much as tighten a screw on either of her masterpieces.

Of course, Ed was also well aware the trip was a win-win situation for both he and Al; for Al, it was a chance to see his close and very pretty friend, (or as Ed suspected, one of Al’s many girlfriends) Paninya and a chance for Ed to get away from Vice Chancellor Mustang’s inane missions. While Ed wasn’t completely comfortable with his younger brother’s interest in the former pick pocket, he had long ago given up lecturing Al about his choice in women and, besides, it gave Al an opportunity to be elsewhere.

Which meant Ed would have a chance to find some time alone with Winry to participate in some mutual ‘stress relief’.

If he could survive their initial contact, that was.

Winry’s behavior had taken an odd turn for the worse since the incident in the shower several months before. In the beginning, their newfound intimacy seemed to have mellowed Winry’s temper. Even when Ed would get out of line she would opt not to club him almost comatose and gave as good as she got in bed. Now, her enthusiasm during sex had become more muted, lackluster, as if she were distracted and not in the moment. Her calmer demeanor had slowly degenerated into a testy, impatient temper that carried an undertone of vindictiveness, which seemed especially noticeable when she resumed her old habit of correcting his bad behavior by the most painful means possible. This change in Winry puzzled Ed; for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out just what had caused her temperament’s drastic turn about over the last few months.

“Well, here we are,” Al’s youthful voice declared with false cheer, pulling Ed from his thoughts. He glanced at Al (Damn it, why does he have to be taller than me!), noting his younger brother’s hunched posture and the faint hint of fear in his gold eyes. Al always worried about him when it was certain Winry wouldn’t be happy about malfunctioning or damaged automail, but considering there wasn’t a big problem with his leg and that he was only doing what Winry had always nagged him to do, regular maintenance checks, this visit shouldn’t be that big of a deal.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

Heaving a sigh, Ed scowled up at the flashy façade that declared they were at Garfiel’s Atelier’s, before lowering his gaze to squint at the door as if it were made of barbed wire. He readjusted the jacket slung over his shoulder and took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as if to calm himself.

“Yeah, we’re here. Best get it over with.”

“How mad do you think she’ll be?” Al asked, the sight of him hovering behind his much shorter brother in fear bordering on ludicrous. “I mean, did you break it or is your leg malfunctioning?”

“Does it matter?” Ed grumbled, “Either way, it’s an excuse for her to beat me to a pulp.” ‘Especially lately…’

“You both really do have short fuses, don’t you?”

“What did you say about being short?!” Ed growled in an ill-tempered tone, glaring over his shoulder at his brother.

“Geez, Ed. It’s just an expression,” came Al’s sardonic reply.

Ed faced the door again, his shoulders slumping in dejection. “Whatever. The sooner I go in, the sooner it’ll be over with.”

No further words were exchanged as Ed shuffled up to the sun-bleached door to grasp the doorknob and turn it. A cheerful bell announced their entry and when a familiar female voice called from the back of the shop, Ed froze in his tracks.

“I’ll be right there!”

A collision from behind caused the young alchemist to stumble a few feet further inside as Al, unable to compensate for Ed’s abrupt halt, walked into him. “Watch it!” Ed snarled under his breath, pinning his younger brother a quick glare. The two threw a quick glance about the waiting room; there were no other patrons in the shop at the moment and it also appeared as if the owner was absent. With caution, they pressed further into the tastefully decorated waiting area and Al closed the door behind them, careful not to raise too much noise. As Al set their suitcase on the tidy wood plank floor, he whispered to his brother, “It’s awfully quiet in here, today.”

“Damn. No witnesses,” Ed muttered, only to have his heart rise into his throat when he heard footsteps advance from the back room. Thoughts of turning and running for his life darted through his mind but he shored up to his resolve and held his ground. Momentarily, Winry appeared through a door behind the counter, tugging her work gloves from her hands. She was dressed in her usual pale lavender coveralls with the addition of a black and white half top that zipped up the front. A pale peach bandana covered the top of her head, but her hair was now pinned back instead of being allowed to flow down the sides of her face.

“How can I hel—,” Winry’s cheerful voice cut short as she saw who had entered and a dark frown replaced her bright smile.

***

Winry hummed a tuneless melody to herself as she delicately soldered the connections within an automail hand, finding the rhythm of touching the hot iron first to the flux then to the tinning as she melted the metal onto the target area. It was relaxing, almost meditative; she reveled in this kind of detail, because it not only allowed her a sense of satisfaction, but also gave her mind the opportunity to drop into a Zen-like state. She dwelled over many things while in this mind set, her thoughts drifting here and there like a butterfly flitting from flower to flower and she could even consider deeper things without being troubled by them. It allowed her peace, contentment, and time to feel good about herself.

And that was why she tried to avoid thinking about her “boyfriend” any more than necessary. Lately, whenever Ed came to mind, she would break out of her altered state to find her jaw clenched tight and her teeth painfully gnashed together. Every time she would think about how he had yet to say his feelings out loud, or over the fact that their lovemaking had become less about love and more about scientifically perfected lust, Winry became troubled. He was taking their tenuous relationship entirely for granted and the thought caused a coil of anxiety to well up within her, tying her stomach into knots. These, and many recollections about Ed’s rather self-centered habits, brought her nothing but grief and annoyance, especially when they intruded on her calmer moments.

For now, though, her mind was peaceful and content. She was doing what she loved and thoroughly enjoying every minute of her work.

The bell above the door jangled, bringing her out of her focus and causing her to sit straight. A client. Winry hoped it would be a quick transaction so she could get back to her work and keep to her schedule.

“I’ll be right there!” she called over her shoulder as she turned off the soldering iron and set it down with care. Winry stood, gave her coveralls a quick brush to clean them of any tiny metal shavings, and started for the waiting room.

“How can I hel--.” The sentence died on her tongue as she stepped out behind the counter and saw just whom it was that had come to call. The source of her ire, the one she could no longer think about without provoking a clenched-teeth-induced headache. The very person she would really rather have not dealt with today.

Edward Elric.

In addition to her usual assumption of broken automail, the thought: ‘Oh god, no. He’ll want sex. I really don’t have the time or energy for this right now,’ went through her head. Winry’s shoulders sagged in defeat. When had her feelings of desire turned into dread? When had her body, which used to tingle at the prospect of having sex with Ed, tense with apprehension instead? Perhaps when their lovemaking (If you could call it that) became more predictable, like when Ed had learned to do no more than necessary to bring her to her peak then hurry on to his own conclusion.

Now, lately, he had even begun to neglect that effort, taking care of his own needs without another thought to her pleasure. There had never really been curious exploration or caring touches after their first time, and rarely offers of holding one another while falling asleep, which was really pathetic considering they had been intimate no more times than she could count on the a fingers of both hands.

“Hey, Winry!” Al greeted with equal cheer, timidly waggling his fingers at her.

Winry suppressed the surge of irritation that welled up within and carefully kept her countenance and voice even. “What did you do, Edward?” She did offer a brief smile at Al, who was looking decidedly nervous, “Hey, Al.”

“What, no ‘Hi, Ed, it’s good to see you again’?” Ed groused, but it was obvious by the tone of his voice he was anything but self-assured.

“Edward,” Winry intoned, jabbing her fists into her hips to stand akimbo; she drilled a burning look into him and saw him wilt.

“I think there might be something wrong with my leg, but I bet a couple of small adjustments will fix it up, no problem,” he said with obvious forced bravado and gave his automail leg a shake as if to prove it to her. The forced grin plastered on his face did nothing to bolster her confidence.

Winry sighed. ‘That’s not the only thing wrong with you, my dear’, she wanted to respond but kept it to herself. Instead, she went with the typical retort. “You think there might be something wrong? What did you do to my automail this time?!” she asked, her voice a low, frustrated growl. She narrowed her eyes at the elder brother as if catching him in a lie.

It was too much for Al; the look in Winry’s eyes was beyond predatory and he didn’t want to be victim number two today. “Ahh…I think I’ll go find Paninya, now,” Al’s voice wavered as his hand frantically searched behind himself for the doorknob. Glancing over his shoulder when he found it, he yanked the door open and made a fast exit, almost slamming the door in his haste to escape the palatable tension building in the room. The bell clattered wildly in protest to the abuse as the door closed with a sharp ‘thump!’

***

Edward was stunned by the fact that Al had just abandoned him. Coward!! he silently rebuked his brother, ‘Run off with one of your girlfriends and leave me alone with the crazy woman!’ Instinct caused him to back up a pace as Winry took a step toward him. “I didn’t do anything to it!” he barked in his own defense, feeling a lot less brave than he sounded. “It’s nothing major! The knee catches every now and then! All I probably need is some maintenance!”

What Edward didn’t realize was that Winry was restraining herself from making with yet another sarcastic response. “Yeah, right!” she snapped, pulling her wrench from a deep pocket of her coveralls and hefting it as if to test its weight and balance.

‘You better think of something to say to keep yourself alive, Ed.’ His larynx bobbed with a nervous swallow. “Honestly! I didn’t do anything to it!” he shot back in desperation as he took another step backwards, preparing himself to dodge any metal missiles that might come flying his way. “Why is it always my fault!” He could feel his knees begin to shake, causing the metal one to rattle quietly.

“Because it usually is!” she snarled as she wound up to pitch her weapon of choice.

Flinching, Ed threw up his hands to protect his head. He had one chance to save himself: guilt. “Excuse me, but I seem to recall a time when SOMEONE forgot to replace a bolt in my shoulder when she installed my automail!” He braced himself for impact, making a last-ditch, impotent attempt to ward off injury by draping his arms over his head.

He waited for a few tense seconds more for a blow never came.

“I never said it was my fault!” Winry finally retorted with a pout, lowering the wrench.

For a brief second, Ed focused on her plumped lip as it stuck out at him. ‘She can be so damned cute when she does that—wait a minute! She’s trying to kill me! Focus!’

“It took me a while but I did figure it out, especially when you put a new bolt in without taking out the old one, back when you did the repair in the hospital!” His liquid-gold eyes glowed with self-righteousness as he copied her earlier posture by jamming his fists onto his hips. “Despite appearances, I DO pay attention upon occasion!” He huffed a sigh at her, mirroring her pout.

Winry’s expression collapsed in weary surrender and she heaved a tired sigh as she returned the makeshift weapon to her pocket. “Okay, okay!” She rubbed a fist over her forehead, leaving a dirty streak behind, “Then what is the problem?”

Ed relaxed a bit but still remained alert for flying objects. Lately, Winry’s mood could change on a cens and he wasn’t taking any chances by letting his guard down. “It’s acting funny, that’s all. Now I have a limp.” Considering her current mood, he decided it might best to not bring up the other reason for his visit: a chance to romp between the sheets with her. “Just look at it, okay?” He grasped his jacket to slide from his shoulder and let it dangle from his hand.

Winry placed a finger to her lips in thought as her brain switched over to mechanic mode, “Hmmm…I wonder…is it possible you could’ve grown a little? Sometimes a length difference between the legs can cause the ball joint to wear unevenly, especially if it causes a harder impact when you take a step and your body compensates for the uneven gait.”

Ignoring the techno jargon, Ed fumed, “AND WHY WOULDN’T IT BE POSSIBLE?! AND DON’T SAY LITTLE!”

She scowled at him, clearly fed up with his childish rant. “Honestly, Ed! You’re taller than me now and you still whine like a little kid! Grow up, already! You’re nearly twenty years old!”

An inhuman noise emitted from the back of Ed’s throat as he clenched his hands at his sides. Now she was calling him immature? “YOU…YOU…” He choked on his next words, rendering them unintelligible even though he would like to have spouted something uncomplimentary. His common sense made an appearance only because Winry was still armed and dangerous, which did wonders to keep him from saying anything he might regret. Instead, he shook with helpless rage, his automail arm rattling quietly at his side.

In the following moment of silence Ed caught the fleeting triumphant expression on Winry’s face. He could already guess what she was thinking: There! That’ll teach you to break my masterpieces! and it made him even angrier. How dare she insult him by calling him immature!

Winry’s exasperated sigh cooled his anger and she seemed to sag with resignation. “Well, c’mon then.” She pointed to a stool at the end of the counter, “Strip down to your shorts and sit down here.” Winry turned and walked behind the counter to retrieve a basic tool kit stored on a self behind it. “I might as well look at your arm while I’m at it.” The young woman looked annoyed mixed with a touch of melancholy as she placed the cloth bundle on the countertop.

“Strip? Here?!” Ed protested, oblivious to Winry’s subdued mood. He could feel his face grow warm, “No way! I refuse to go on public display again wearing just my skivvies! I still remember being stripped in public the first time I came to this backwater town!” ‘Besides, what if someone walks in, especially if we get ‘busy?’’ he grumbled inwardly.

“There’s no one here,” Winry countered impatiently, rolling out the canvas toolkit to lay out the tools. A quick sweep of her arm around the room emphasized her point, “Garfiel’s on vacation and I have no other clients coming in! My schedule is clear for the rest of the day!” She slapped both palms on the countertop and challenged him with a dark glare. “Strip!”

“And what about walk-ins?! Lest you forget, that’s what Al and I just did!” Ed persisted. There was no way he was going to risk anyone he didn’t know seeing him in such a compromising position again. He was still self-conscious about strangers seeing the ports of his automail and simply didn’t want anyone other than Winry and Al to lay eyes on them.

“Oh, all right, you big baby!” Winry shot back, throwing her hands in the air. She turned to walk deeper into the studio, heading for the back, “Follow me and we’ll go to my personal work room!”

“I’m NOT a baby!” Ed snapped, snatching the suitcase from the floor to stomp after her. But a little voice in the far corner of his mind cheered, ‘Yes! Back to her room where it’s more private!’

“Yeah, yeah,” Winry tossed back, unaffected, not bothering to rise to the bait.

At first, Ed’s gaze focused on the floor—he didn’t want Winry to see the lecherous leer spreading across his face—but when he needed to look up to see his way, his eyes automatically focused on the gentle swaying of her bottom. Even under the loose fabric of her coveralls he could see her soft contours, the way her hips shifted as she walked, and in his inattention nearly tripped over a large box of parts sitting on the floor behind the counter. He grumbled at the offending container under his breath and resisted the urge to extract his revenge by kicking it. Instead, Ed re-focused on the woman walking before him to again observe everything about her, from the soft, tanned, skin visible between her coveralls and half-top, to how her long hair gently twitched back and forth against her bottom. He felt a trickle of moisture under his nose and absently wiped at it.

Did he have a nosebleed coming on?

Ed followed her down a short hallway to one of the smaller workrooms, one that Winry had taken as her personal workspace. At the rear of the building, it was next to the patient recovery rooms and well away from the daily activity of the business. The room contained a workbench covered with a wide array of tools and automail parts, a waist-high bench for clients to recline on, and a wheeled work stool. In one corner there were a number of stacked crates and along the far wall sat a drafting table with an old wooden chair parked before it. He noted in passing the blueprint laying open on the scattered papers sitting upon the table, one of an automail hand in exploded detail. Above and to the side of the crates, a single window framed in yellow curtains lit the off-white walls of the small room with a warm light, making it cheerful and welcoming.

“Strip and I’ll be back in a moment,” Winry instructed without enthusiasm, “I need to borrow some of Garfiel’s tools. Just sit on the bench,” she pointed to an object on the crates, “There’s a cushion you can use to sit on if you want. Hang your clothes over the chair in front of the drafting table.” She shuffled out of the room without further comment.

Ed glared after her: she was so not cute sometimes.

But she was dead sexy.

As he set his suitcase down by the chair and hung his jacket over its back, a stray thought crossed his mind; by now, Winry should have already kissed him in greeting and have tenderly taken him into her arms. Usually, when her anger had dissipated and calm returned she became more loving, more demonstrative. Instead, she seemed to be avoiding his touch and was anything but affectionate. While her odd behavior was somewhat puzzling, he wasn’t overly concerned. ‘Maybe she’s just tired. She’s probably been working long hours again.’

He simply shrugged and began to undress without another thought toward the issue.

***

Winry patiently replaced the upper plate on Ed’s forearm then sat back on her stool as she prepared to examine his leg. Few words had passed between the young couple over the last half hour; Winry’s focus was absolute when working with automail, aside from the fact it seemed she was avoiding any conversation altogether.

Ed, on the other hand, still chose to ignore her lack of eye contact and quieter than usual demeanor. Rather, he was trying to direct his attention anywhere except on her. As much as he wanted to make the first advance, he believed it might be in his best interest if he waited until she was done with her work; after all, she was generally more receptive after finishing maintenance and he did need his leg looked at. Making himself wait until the right moment was nothing less than torture and Winry’s proximity and appearance did little to help him keep his composure. So Ed remained quiet, and waited, hoping she would finish soon, also knowing it would be his downfall if he watched her for too long.

Against his will, his eyes kept stealing glimpses of her; Winry’s attire was a source of great distraction to the young alchemist being it did little to cover some of the finer points of her anatomy. He found himself repeatedly tearing his gaze away to look at the ceiling, the crates in the corner, the large toolbox on the bench at her side, anywhere other than at the woman sitting before him.

Even as the minutes ticked away, Winry still showed no signs of her usual affection and Ed began to find her overly professional manner vexing. Just what the hell was her problem, anyway? Then his mind once again sidetracked into a pleasant daydream as he caught a whiff of her hair, the sweet smell of vanilla and…was that…cherry blossoms? that wafted up to greet his nose. In his mind’s eye he could see her lips; swollen and pink from his kisses, the line of her bare arms, her exposed navel…he even recalled the tactile sensation of her long, graceful legs wrapped tightly around his hips and the sound of her sighs of pleasure. A thrill raced down his spine, signaling impending arousal and Ed shook his head, forcibly tearing himself from his fantasies and back into the moment. When he looked down again, Winry was finishing the internal check of his leg and was already replacing the panel—she was done already?

He looked down upon her bandana-wrapped head to watch her slip the panel into place and Ed was rewarded with the sight of her cleavage as Winry straightened to check the alignment of the steel plate over the appropriate fastening holes. The young man caught his breath in surprise when he saw how her breasts were pressed together by the low cut black and white zippered half-top, making them look plumper and even more luscious than usual. This was one of the more beautiful sights he had seen in some time and fought the impulse to stare at the twin mounds of soft, tempting flesh.

Then, when Winry looked up to reach for her screwdriver, Ed quickly looked away.

“I didn’t find any problems with the wiring or the cylinder and couldn’t really see if there was a problem with the ball joint. I’ll measure your legs to see if there’s any difference in their lengths.” She set her mouth in a hard line as she pinned him with a scolding glare, “In other words, you may have grown a little more and that might have caused the problem!”

Ed covered the guilty expression on his face and looked back with an overly enthusiastic grin, “Yeah. That must be it.”

Winry’s expression immediately turned suspicious; had his flippant answer given away the fact he’d been openly ogling her bust, something he knew she didn’t like? After a tense moment, in which Ed could almost see the storm clouds gather over her and disparaging thoughts run through her head, she finally gave another sigh and began to fasten the plate in place. Finishing, she stood and reached for the tape measure on her workbench.

Her grip when she grasped at Ed’s right hip was firm and no-nonsense, causing the young alchemist to startle and wince as she dug her thumb into his flesh to seek out his hip joint, using it as an initial point of reference for the measuring device. While not specifically touching him in a suggestive manner, Winry was very close to doing so and Ed swallowed hard as her touch ran the length of his thigh to his artificial knee, stretching the cloth tape in the process. When her touch let up, Ed relaxed slightly, only to tense again when she repeated the procedure on his other leg. Her touch combined with her close proximity caused him to be very aware of just where she was touching him and found himself willing her hand to move just a little more to the right…

He could no longer help it; things…were starting…to stir…

The young mechanic sat back onto the stool to measure the bottom portion of his leg, her hand briefly brushing the inside of his thigh, just above his knee. That was all it took. Ed’s body reacted immediately. Try as he might, there was no way he could stop the tightening in his groin.

Was she doing this on purpose?

Feeling his face as well as the rest of his body flush with warmth, Ed looked away, determined to not look at her and escalate the problem further. He forced himself to think of a complex mathematical problem and proceeded to solve it in his head. As of late, reciting the periodic table wasn’t as effective of an anti-arousal device as it used to be and he had turned to solving differential equations as a last resort. He had to do something, anything, to get the situation and his body back under control.

***

Fortunately for Ed, Winry didn’t notice right away. Believing his new round of fidgeting to be nothing out of the ordinary, she finished jotting down the measurements on a form attached to a clipboard sitting alongside her toolbox. It was when she sat straight and opened her mouth to tell him he had grown by almost another half inch that she noticed the notorious tent in the front of Ed’s boxers.

‘I knew it. I just knew it,’ she wailed in her head, ‘Is this all he ever thinks about anymore?’

Clamping her hands onto her hips, Winry fixed a suspicious glare on the young man. “Edward.” His name came out in a low, warning tone.

His eyes rolled to look down at her without turning his head. “What?” he responded, his voice sounding too innocent.

“What are you thinking?”

“’Bout what?”

Growing frustrated with his coy evasion, Winry fought back the urge to reach for her wrench buried in her pocket. “You know very well, ‘what!’ Sometimes you’re such a letch!” she shot back at him, “Can’t we just once be close to one another without you reacting like an animal in heat?!”

He turned to face her, his gold eyes flashing, indignant over her critical words, “Aw, c’mon, Winry! Gimme a break! It’s a normal reaction! I can’t control it!”

Winry had had enough of his juvenile reasoning. She chose to give as well as she got, “Pardon me, Edward Elric! I keep forgetting that control is an ability you lack!”

Ed’s back stiffened, causing him to rear up taller on the bench, and she could almost hear his teeth gnash together when he bared them at her. “What the hell is wrong with you, Winry?! When the hell did you become such a bitch?!”

His words stung. They were thoughtless, mean-spirited, and just plain hurt. Never before had he called her by that term and it made her want to cry, but she was far too angry to let that happen. “Why you--!” Winry produced her wrench from her pocket as she stood to take a swing at his head. Ed was on his feet in a flash, catching and holding her wrist in a tight, painful grasp and efficiently stopping her attack. Winry immediately fisted her other hand and swiftly brought it up to belt him, only to have Ed also arrest its motion. Mild panic swept over the young woman; Ed had never physically retaliated before now and she felt her insides quail over what he might possibly do next.

“Let go of me, Edward!” she demanded, her inner strength taking over, and fought back in an attempt to free herself.

“Hah!” came his derisive snort. “You call me a letch while you run around looking so…” An inner struggle reflected in his eyes before they shifted to look at the crease of her cleavage visible above her top then back to her eyes. “Gaaah! Why do you always have to dress like this? Are you intentionally trying to get me worked up just so you can turn me down?!”

This only made Winry angrier; how dare he suggest she was a flirtatious tease!

A brief struggle ensued as Winry continued to fight for her freedom but Ed held her steady, even yielding a bit as she exerted her full strength. Apparently, he hadn’t expected her to be quite this strong although he should have known better, considering the years she had worked with metal. Mustering all the strength she possessed, Winry pulled against Ed’s hold again, nearly yanking him off balance, only to have Ed react by backing her against the wall. She could tell it was necessary for him to put forth a real effort as she tried to match his strength, but he still managed to affix her hands to the wall on either side of her head.

“C’mon, Winry!” Ed grunted as he struggled to keep her hands pinned, “It’s been a long time since we…y’know. I can’t help it!”

“Edward, I really don’t have time for this right now! Maybe lat--.” He stopped her in mid-protest with a fervent kiss. A breathless moment later, he pulled back far enough to look down into her eyes.

“I thought your schedule was clear,” he taunted, staring her down. His warm breath washed over her face as he panted, the heat in his eyes unmistakable. Against her will Winry’s stomach stirred again, this time with sexual self-awareness, and she silently cursed her body’s impending betrayal. Even though it was almost certain she would not receive equal satisfaction she still couldn’t resist Ed’s presence.

Eyes locked for a long moment, both panting with a mixture of anger and excitement, both grappling with the very enticing sensations forming deep within. Hesitant, Ed drew close again, as if anticipating a violent rejection from her then pressed his body against hers when he dove in for another heated kiss. Winry found herself responding without hesitation as his tongue explored her mouth, answering the kiss in like until it became open-mouthed and animated. Winry became acutely aware of Ed’s hard, muscular body holding her captive against the wall, the slight pinch at her wrists from his firm grip, and the distinct, musky scent that was uniquely his when he was aroused. Her senses heightened exponentially as she rapidly lost herself in the overwhelming stimuli and barely noticed when the wrench fell from her now nerveless fingers to clatter to the floor at their feet. Neither flinched at the sharp report of tempered steel contacting wood, too lost in each other’s presence to acknowledge it.

A short eternity later, Ed released her lips and trailed a wet path down the side of her neck with his mouth. He gently nipped at the skin near the juncture of her neck and shoulder, teasing a soft gasp of approval from Winry’s lips. She felt him release her wrists and shivered when his hands slipped down her arms in a soft, sensual caress until he reached the rise of her breasts. Once there, they traveled around their outer curves in a calculated move, flirting with her more sensitive zones without actually contacting them. Winry opened her eyes to watch his liquid gold eyes, now dark with desire, first glance down at her breasts as he gently squeezed them together, then look up to meet her gaze without any trace of his former awkwardness.

“I need this, Winry,” he breathed, “I need you.” His natural hand rose to the zipper that divided the front of her top and decisively pulled it down. The whine of the shuttle separating the teeth sounded far too loud in the small room and Winry’s breath caught in her throat as she felt her breasts being freed from the restrictive cloth. Her nipples peaked almost painfully as they contacted in the open air and the young woman swallowed back another cry when Ed’s hands, one warm and soft, the other cold and hard, pressed her bust together again and the thumbs passed over the tips.

“Need you,” Ed sighed again as his eyelids lowered and he dipped to place a kiss at the top of her cleavage before crouching lower to suck one of the hypersensitive points into his mouth. His tongue first fluttered over it then he drew on her flesh with enthusiasm.

Winry couldn’t stop the compulsion to squirm and moaned as her body experienced the electric-like shock that darted through her like a bolt of lightning. He could be good, so damned good, if he would only take his time and give her more foreplay like this. Yet, every time it would start out like this, with him being careful and attentive, but somewhere along the way he would always switch into a more hurried mode, which often ended with him finishing early and her settling for something decidedly less satisfying. She longed for him to be able to hold out like he had tried to in the beginning, to allow her to rise to her peak while he was still in her so she could experience a more fulfilling orgasm. Each time she would fall for his seduction, each time she would hope it would end differently, yet each time their lovemaking would conclude with her mild disappointment. If only she could make Ed understand the virtue and value of patience, understand that women needed much more than to simply ‘get their rocks off.’

Ed’s automail hand had warmed slightly with the contact against her skin so it was less of a shock when he cradled and lifted one breast to easier access it. The metal digits continued to toy with the nipple, while the other hand mirrored the same action except for the fingers giving her a slight pinch. Another gasp, another sigh. Winry cursed her body again and wished she could resist Ed’s touch.

As he continued to lavish attention to the voluptuous curves, she lowered her hands to scrub tense fingers through his long, deep gold hair, willing him to spend more time doing this to other parts of her anatomy, wanting, wishing for his mouth and tongue to do the same elsewhere. The surge of moist heat between her legs was unmistakable and was soon accompanied by a burning, aching need, and an intense tingling that practically had her weeping with want.

Abruptly, Ed stood straight and pressed into her again, nuzzling at her ear and rocking his hips with purposeful intent against hers, working his solid heat against her abdomen. His shaky breath in her ear caused another round of chills to race down her spine and another soft moan slipped from her throat.

“Please, Winry,” he all but whispered, his tone near wheedling, “I need you.”

“Ed,” she sighed, valiantly struggling against the desire that threatened to consume her, “I should be working.” Her hands ran the length of his back, stopping just short of his backside; she did not want to encourage him any further.

“Please.” This time his tone was anything but a plea. He emphasized his point by brusquely grasping one of her hands and pulling it between them, pressing it against his rock-solid shaft. He was hot and hard to the touch through the soft cotton cloth and Winry found herself yet again amazed by the miracle of how supple skin and flesh could change into something so rigid. Her fingers twitched, tentatively closing around his shaft but she made no move to stimulate him.

Ed touched his forehead to hers and looked down into her eyes again, his expression questioning, begging, yet determined. “Please,” he entreated. Winry answered him with a voracious kiss, giving in to both him and the demands of her own body.

The kiss was short-lived as Ed pulled back and reached around each of her thighs to hook her legs in his arms and lift her. Startled, Winry threw her arms around his neck to keep from falling back. “Ed?” she panted as he carried her back before the bench and set her down. The instant her feet touched the floor, frantic hands, both his and hers, clawed at the closure of her coveralls to undo them. Once they succeeded, Ed removed both her work clothes and panties in one smooth motion, his hands slipping inside the cloth and smoothing over her skin to push them free of her hips and bottom. He took a firm grasp of her by her waist, lifting then depositing Winry on the same cushion he had occupied just moments before.

Winry allowed Ed to strip her of the remainder of her clothing and sandals but wasn’t quite prepared for Ed’s next action. Taking her by the shoulders, he pushed her into a reclining position against the wall then seized her knees to lift and part them. He leaned between them to place a kiss on her stomach then looked up at her, a sly grin on his face. Without a word, he lowered his face to her abdomen and proceeded to tattoo her exposed skin with softest of kisses.

Her stomach muscles tightened involuntarily at Ed’s delicate touch and her breath caught in her throat; she hardly dared to breathe, afraid to distract him and cause him to stop. Fascinated, Winry watched as he systematically moved lower, his mouth continuing its journey over her skin until he reached her navel. Another squeak escaped her when Ed swirled his tongue around the dainty recess, flicking it into the shallow hollow before his mouth began to work its way back toward her bust. There, his lips once more explored her shapely curves with deliberate purpose.

Hope flared within her heart; this wasn’t Ed’s usual style of foreplay and the thought crossed her addled mind that maybe, just maybe, Ed and finally ‘gotten it,’ that he had finally figured out that she needed more than cursory touches to become adequately aroused. Anticipation mounted when she felt his hands slip around her thighs and move toward her body, carefully taking their time as they crept higher. Once they reached her hips, Ed lifted his torso enough so he could bring his hands closer, gliding over her abdomen until his thumbs brushed the patch of coarse dark blonde hair at the apex of her thighs. They teased the hairs with the lightest of touches and Winry shivered as gooseflesh prickled her skin.

After a torturous moment, Ed slipped his flesh thumb into her moist heat and closed his lips over a sensitized point of her breast. Winry’s resulting moan was soft and she gently gathered Ed’s head in her arms as she opened herself farther to accommodate his touch.

Ed’s thumb sought and found her center of pleasure, circling it with a careful, slow movement, tantalizing her with his touch and drawing a tortured sound from her throat. She gathered his head into her arms as he continued to draw on her hypersensitive flesh with restrained enthusiasm, scrubbing her fingers through his thick gold hair and encouraging him to continue. Shortly, Ed redirected his attention, this time capturing her mouth with his, drawing her into a quick, ardent kiss before moving to mouthe her neck. His thumb teased without urgency, meticulously moving about her hidden reaches, repeatedly coming close but never quite touching the nub hidden there.

His touch felt wonderful, temporarily granting her amnesia from his past self-serving tendencies, and it took a long moment for Winry to realize that Ed had lifted himself enough so he could look down into her face. His eyes were watching her with an almost clinical detachment, as if she were an experiment whose end result needed to be observed and recorded. His gaze wasn’t completely cold; his pupils were dilated wide with arousal, but she saw no expression of tenderness nor felt any sense of connection from him. The young woman suffered a brief flash of insecurity, but it was promptly displaced with a thrill when her lover offered her a leering grin and shifted his hand to allow his fingers to make direct contact with the nerve-rich button of flesh. Winry shuddered as he tormented her for a few slow paced strokes, then she twitched in shock, her head tipping back and her fingers digging into Ed’s scalp as he began to stimulate her in earnest. The young alchemist’s name spilled from her in a choked cry and she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing tears to trace along her long eyelashes and leak from the corners of her eyelids.

The next few seconds were nothing more than a blur to Winry as Ed continued his erotic torture, his fingers manipulating her until she was gasping his name and over and over and begging him not to stop. Just when she had utterly surrendered herself to the impending rapture, Ed suddenly broke contact and eased away from her grasp to stand straight. With a quick movement, he pushed his boxers from his hips where they fell to the floor and pooled around his ankles.

‘Not again!’

Frustrated, Winry opened her mouth to protest, furious that he had stopped short yet again and denied her of her release. It was the look in his eyes, one of smoldering lust that kept her silent, and her gaze drifted lower on his anatomy to note he was well beyond ready to continue in another capacity.

Still, she wished he had sustained his contact until she had reached her peak.

“Why did you stop?!” she panted when she finally found her voice.

Edward’s response was not what she expected: “Turn over.” His tone was no-nonsense.

Now she was completely confused. He had to be kidding!

“Wha—?” Winry scolded angrily, “Damn it, Edward, why do you always stop just before—?!”

“Turn over!” he reiterated with annoyance, “I can’t…you’re too high…I can’t –y’know, because I’m not tall...!” Horrified because he had very nearly declared himself too short, Ed gnashed his teeth again. “Dammit, Winry, lean over onto your stomach!”

“Edward, what the hell are you—!”

She never finished her sentence. Ed glowered up at her and, with a rough grip on her legs, jerked her from the bench. Winry barely had time to let out another squeak of surprise before Ed spun her around, then a strong, cool metal hand gave her a sharp shove between her shoulder blades, causing her to tip forward. She caught the edge of the bench just in time to keep herself from landing face down on the cushion and bumping her chin.

“Hey!” she barked at him, indignant at his uncharacteristically rough behavior.

“I know, I know, I’m not wearing any protection!” he panted, oblivious to the fact that Winry was actually angry about being manhandled, not about the lack of a contraceptive device. She had taken the matter of birth control into her own hands some time ago after tiring of their constant bickering over her ill-received reminders for Ed to wear a condom. She opened her mouth to inform him of the change in the situation, but Ed cut her off, the tone of his voice near desperation, “I will pull out in time! I promise!”

Not given a chance to retort, strong hands opened her thighs further then firmly took hold of her hips. In the next instant solid heat filled her, driving deep until she felt his body press against her bottom and a sense of slight discomfort within. A shocked gasp filled her lungs, mingling with Ed’s emphatic groan; why was he doing this, why weren’t they facing one another? They could have just as easily moved to one of the patient’s beds in a recovery room at the back of the shop. Why was he choosing this over the chance to face her? His chest pressed into her back, forcing her down to rest on the bench and Winry complied without further protest as he began a leisurely pace, moving neither fast or slow within her.

Winry was in total disbelief even though having sex in this position did feel amazingly good. She was struck by just how impersonal it seemed, as if Ed wasn’t that interested in the emotional connection between them. The thought left her disillusioned; the relationship between them meant that little to him? Had she misread the young alchemist’s intentions from the very beginning? If so, exactly how did Ed really feel about her?

She was pulled away from her thoughts as Ed picked up his momentum, his labored breath flowing warm and soft across her neck. His hands slipped around her torso to caress her stomach, his automail hand creeping toward a breast and Winry shuddered at the relative chill against her sensitized skin.

“C’mon, Winry, hurry up!” she heard him croak, his voice straining, hoarse as if he were making a supreme effort to hold himself back, “I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hold out. This feels so damn incredible without those stupid condoms…”

She gasped as his prosthetic hand gingerly clasped a breast and gave it a slight squeeze. While this feel good, it still wasn’t quite what she needed, especially considering he was demanding she reach her pinnacle. Frustrated, she twisted her head around to glare at him over her shoulder, “Not...able…to perform…on command, Edward!” Winry panted in a growl.

“Damn it!” Ed cursed, expressing his impatience through gritted teeth, “I can’t wait any longer, can’t …”

In an unexpected move, his hands returned to her hips to take firm grasp of her. The young woman winced as his fingers tightened and she bit her lip to hold back a yelp of pain. His flesh hand felt merely uncomfortable, but his prosthetic fingers constricted until they dug without mercy into her tender flesh, causing tears of distress to gather at the corners of her eyes. She was certain there would be a mark left behind, one that would later be visible for weeks above the top edge of her tied-off coveralls.

Behind her, she could feel Ed working in earnest toward his own release, repeatedly gasping her name as he took her without reservation. She braced herself against his driving thrusts, clutching at the cushion beneath her in order to keep from being driven across the bench and gasped in distress as his grip abruptly tightened even more.

As suddenly as his grip had tightened, he let go and drew away from her, his breath hitching in his throat. A few seconds later she felt something warm streak across her lower back and Winry was appalled when she realized just how Ed had finished. Bile rose in the back of her throat. This felt so wrong, so detached, that an accompanying sense of shame and self-loathing filled her.

***

Ed gasped Winry’s name over and over as the pain-pleasure overwhelmed his senses, and drew back as he came to the brink, quickly finishing himself off with his natural hand. Legs now weak, he staggered back from her, allowing the young woman to straighten once more. Winry looked over her shoulder at him, her expression a mix of sadness and annoyance.

Annoyance? What was there to be annoyed about?

“You idiot!” came her irritated scolding, “You didn’t have to finish that way!”

“What the hell!” he panted back at her, equally annoyed, “Last time I wanted to do it without protection you threatened to kill me, so I pulled out, just like I promised! Since when did all this change?!”

She straightened and threw a fierce glare over her shoulder at him, “Since the last time we were together!”

“Gee, thanks for telling me, Winry!” Ed’s breathing began to even out as he calmed. He leaned on the bench with his artificial arm, still waiting for his legs to recover.

Winry seemed unfazed by his frustration. “If you hadn’t been in such a hurry, I would have been able to tell you I’m taking something new—an oral contraceptive! Which means I won’t get pregnant if we don’t use a condom!” She snatched a clean shop rag from beside her toolbox and strained to reach behind herself to wipe at the sticky splotch of thick fluid across the small of her back, “Damn it,” she muttered, “What a mess.” Her gaze flicked up to his as if judging the reaction to her next words, “But being you’re always gung-ho and don’t give a damn about romancing me…” She threw her hands up, venting her own exasperation.

Ed frowned. “Shut up!” he intoned without venom. He was well aware that he and Winry had never officially gone on anything remotely resembling a date and, of the infrequent times they had been intimate, it had been rushed and rough. But she was Winry, the girl he had known all his life; why was the pretence of romance or taking her out on a date necessary, anyway?

Letting out a soft sigh, Ed watched as Winry finished wiping away the mess on her back then drop the soiled rag to the floor. The thought that he should have helped her clean up crossed his mind but it left him when he saw how tired and dispirited Winry looked, as if she had given up something very important to her. Her fiery spirit seemed squelched, subdued and a sense of culpability welled up within; had he caused this change in her normally cheerful mood?

No! He refused to feel guilty! Hadn’t she seemed as eager as him only moments ago? “Hell, Winry, it’s not like you pushed me away, or anything,” he grumbled. He kept his gaze on his artificial hand, watching as it picked at an unraveling thread on the cushion, fearful of meeting her gaze.

Oh, hell. His brave front wasn’t working. He still felt guilty, although he wasn’t sure why.

He heard her sigh and looked up to see her stepping back into her panties. Ed admired the soft curves of her body for a long moment.

“What good would it do me,” she said, her voice soft, wistful, “Even when I tell you I have other things to do or to slow down a little, you push ahead.” She pulled on her coveralls then adjusted her bust back into the bandeau top and zipped it closed.

A quiet fury welled up from deep within; was she telling him she no longer enjoyed their encounters, that she would rather be doing something else? Plucking his own underwear from the floor, Ed stepped into them and jerked them back onto his hips. “Fine, Winry!” he growled, “I won’t bother you anymore! Maybe I’ll look elsewhere!” His chest was heaving, his rage barely in check. He bent to retrieve the rest of his clothes from the chair with exaggerated movements and pulled them on with deliberate care. It hurt to think she was no longer interested in him, that she no longer enjoyed their intimacy.

“Ed?” Winry beckoned softly, “Why are you so mad? Look elsewhere? For what?” Her confusion was clear on her face.

Tugging on his jacket, Ed spun to throw a single, scathing glare her way. He felt humiliated—hadn’t she just said sex with him was unimportant, less than exciting? And she couldn’t understand why he was so pissed off?!

“I thought y—you enjoyed our little—.” He sputtered for words that wouldn’t embarrass him to the point of further humiliation, “Our alone times together!” he finally spat out, discomfited by the words but confident the message he was trying to express was clear. “Apparently I was mistaken!” He rotated his shoulders to settle his jacket better on his frame as well as relieve the tension building there.

Dark blonde brows furrowed upwards over wide, deep blue eyes. It took another second before the meaning of his words sunk in and her brows pinched together even tighter. Winry tied the sleeves of her coveralls about her waist and took a step toward him. “Ed, you’re being ridiculous!” she scolded, jamming her fists into her hips.

Ed halted mid-turn to whirl and glare at her again, “I’m being ridiculous?! You threw yourself at me our first time, in the shower no less, and now all of a sudden I’m…I’m BORING you?!”

***

Winry answered his anger with a somewhat sad smile. As usual, Ed had turned his lack of comprehension into anger, putting him on the defensive instead of actually listening to what she had said. How could they ever open the lines of communication between them when he was oblivious, or at the very least resistant to suggestions? It also didn’t help that Ed didn’t like to openly talk about sex, which made starting a dialogue between them even more difficult than it needed to be. Winry loved him with all her heart and soul but wished she could get him to see that there was more to being together than just sex.

“Ed, believe me, you’re anything but boring,” the young woman responded with warmth and a hint of humor. She reached out to caress his inflamed cheek, the tips of her fingers gently skimming over his hot skin. When he didn’t shrink away, Winry stepped forward to embrace him, one arm smoothing around to the nape of his neck, the other around his waist. Ed tensed but didn’t pull away.

“I do think about you.” She hugged him close to quietly speak into his ear, “And I do think about us being together like that.”

Ed’s response was immediate and completely over the top; his arms went around her, pulling her to him as his mouth sought hers. Winry dissuaded his intentions by stepping back and pulling free to stand at arm’s length, keeping him securely at bay by holding her hand against his chest. Once again, he had misread her words and actions. If only she could get him to understand what she was trying to say without being too obvious. It would do no good to have Ed close off emotionally if he felt too threatened by talking about sex.

She shook a chastising finger at him with her other hand, “However,” she started once his expression shifted back to annoyed, “Women don’t like to be rushed all the time, Ed. We like to be romanced, not just jump into sex.” Certainly, that was clear enough without being blunt. “We also need more time to be connected with our partners, more contact with our bodies to be…satisfied.”

His cheeks and the bridge of his nose flushed red and his gaze dropped to the floor, “Geez, Winry,” Ed sulked, “That’s a helluva lotta work just to get laid.”

Winry felt herself go cold, the young man’s words piercing her heart like a dagger and leaving a dull, lingering ache behind. Had he just stated she was no more than a convenient sexual outlet to him? Had she misread his intent, inadvertently allowing him to use her?

“I see.” Her words were barely above a whisper, “That’s all I am to you, a way to get laid.” Her voice almost caught in her throat. “That’s all I have ever been, haven’t I?” Ed’s eyes grew wide and Winry looked away, afraid to learn the truth she might see there.

“Winry?” Ed’s quiet voice trembled, with disbelief or agreement Winry couldn’t tell, but his anger was evident when he snapped, “What the hell?! I didn’t say that!”

Winry’s anger flared white-hot and she jerked her head around to look at him, “Then what did you mean to say, Ed?! I thought you were pretty clear when you told me I was merely a way for you to get laid!”

Ed’s face twisted, his brow furrowing and his lip curling into a sneer as he inflated with fury, “That’s not what I meant and you know it!”

“That’s exactly what you meant!” she shouted back, her resentment suppressing her desire to run and hide so she could cleanse her frayed emotions with tears.

“Have you lost it?!” Ed nearly shrieked back, viciously slashing the air between them with his hand, “I didn’t make the first move, Winry! You were the one that threw yourself at me! I didn’t start this! Now you want me to take all the blame?!”

Winry nearly choked on her own breath. He was right. She had brought this entire set of circumstances upon herself. She felt numb, distant as she struggled to process this information.

She was both angry and sad. Sad, because it was obvious Ed didn’t feel the same toward her as she felt about him, angry because she had acted upon her own feelings, initiated their first intimate encounter without fully considering that Ed might not reciprocate those feelings. She was even angrier with herself because she had offered her heart to him without confirming Ed’s true feelings and had left herself open to be used as a mere sexual plaything.

Tears welled up, blurring her vision. She had loved him from a distance for so long that it had clouded her judgment and created the false belief that Ed loved her, too. Now his words had shown her just how wrong she was, just what a fool she’d been.

Despite these facts, her past indiscretions didn’t give Ed the right to treat her in such an inconsiderate fashion; there was no way she would allow him to continue to toy with her heart. “No,” she responded, her voice steady and stone cold despite her inner turmoil, “You’re right. This is as much my fault as it is yours.” Her icy blue gaze bore into his stormy gold eyes and she felt a tear slip down a cheek. “I can easily fix this, though. Leave.”

Ed twitched, jerked back as if struck. Now his brows canted up, pinched together in a mixture of irritation and confusion. He huffed an annoyed sigh. “Fine, Winry. I’ll come back later when you calm down and pull yourself together.”

Even after all the words they’d just exchanged, Ed still didn’t fully comprehend how she felt.

“No, Ed. This is goodbye. Find yourself another mechanic and ‘go look elsewhere’ for another ‘outlet’. We’re through.” Winry willed herself to stand straight and stop her knees from shaking. She couldn’t cave in to the panic she felt over the prospect of never seeing Ed again. She had to stay strong and preserve what was left of her self-respect.

Now, at long last, Ed seemed to grasp her intent. A look of concern replaced his anger and his rising panic was unmistakable as he took a step toward her. Winry dodged his touch when he lifted a hand to reach for her and backed away from him.

“W-Winry?”

“Get out, Ed. I’m not going to tell you again.” She crossed her arms over her chest, setting up an impenetrable wall between them.

Ed scowled as his temper returned. “I’m sorry, already!” He snorted and jammed his fists onto his hips, “I just don’t understand why you’ve been such a bitch, lately! Why do you have your panties in such a twist?!”

Never before in her life had Winry felt the level of rage that surged through her. Not only Ed had called her by such a highly offensive term a second time, he was completely blind to the events leading up to this confrontation. Perhaps it was time to enlighten him.

“You’re telling me you have no idea why I’m so—“ She clenched her teeth as she restrained her desire to strangle him. “Maybe I’m such a bitch,” she emphasized the word in sarcasm, “because you’re a clueless, selfish, ass!”

“Self—” Ed started, but wisely fell silent when Winry continued her rant.

“Yes, Edward, selfish! You never take me anywhere and you never spend time with me unless you need your automail worked on or you want sex!” She jabbed an accusing finger at him, “Then, when we do have sex, you don’t bother to take the time to please me! You’re incapable of giving me what I need, either emotionally or in bed!” A thought came to her and she finally knew how to phrase what she was trying to say in terms Ed would understand, “You’re breaking your own code, Edward, the alchemist’s code of ‘Equivalent Exchange!’ You’re taking without giving back!” She finished, her tone sharp.

This revelation stunned Ed into silence. All he could do was gape at her, dumbstruck over her accusation. Then something seemed to break deep within him and he visibly sagged, casting a shamed look toward the floor. He drew in a deep breath, “Winry, I never meant to hurt you—.”

“Well, you did, Ed. I feel cheap and dirty. Like you’re ashamed of me. Like I’m good enough for you have sex with, but not good enough to be your girlfriend.” Her voice broke, wavered, “I can’t live like that, knowing that you don’t care enough about me to treat me right.”

“But Winry, I do—”

“No, you don’t!”

“Winry, why won’t you listen to what I have to say—?!”

“Because you’ve said enough already, Edward! Get out,” she repeated, not wanting to hear his lame excuses, “Just GET OUT!” She scooped up the first thing she could reach, the cushion, and flung it at the young man. Ed wasn’t able to duck the missile and just barely avoided the next as Winry hurled a small can of oil. It struck the wall behind him, leaving a small dark stain on the off-white walls before clattering to the floor.

“GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!!”

This time Ed gathered up his things and hurried to the door. He yanked it open and hesitated long enough to glare over his shoulder at her. When Winry snatched up another weapon from the bench, he slammed the door behind himself just in time to avoid the socket wrench she launched at him. The wrench left a sizable mark in the wood door before it’s journey also ended on the floor.

At first, Winry stood in place, her body rigid as she panted, her tears streaming down her cheeks as she listened to the heavy tread of his retreating footsteps. Shortly, the bell to the business’ front door clattered wildly before the sharp report of the door being slammed shook the walls. The following silence was deafening and very final.

‘I wont’ cry! I refuse to cry!’ the little voice in her head coached her and she clenched her hands into tight fists at her sides. ‘He can’t treat me that way, I allow him to! I deserve to be treated better than that!’

‘I won’t… ‘

Oh god, he’s…gone.’

Her resolve cracked, then crumbled, as all the pain and fear broke through her tough exterior.

‘He’s gone.’

The young woman slumped to her knees and a low, quiet sound slipped from her throat. It degenerated into an expression of unequivocal grief and her despair escaped her in wracking sobs, shaking her body with each breath.

‘He’s really gone.’

Never before had she felt so alone, not even when she had learned of her parent’s deaths in the Ishballan war. All her life, Ed had always been there in one capacity or another, had always been part of her life, and she had never once doubted they would always be together. Now, in an instant, her happy childhood illusions had been shattered and it looked as if she would be moving forward through life without the man she loved.

‘No!’ a voice shouted inside her head. ‘I won’t cry, I won’t! I won’t cry over someone who doesn’t love me back!’

More seconds ticked by before Winry managed to rein in her emotions and stifle her tears. Jaw set, she climbed to her feet once more and methodically began to put away her scattered tools and pick up the mess made by Ed’s hasty exit.

I’ve lived without him before. I can live without him now on, Winry told herself as she retreated to the lavatory to cleanse all traces of Ed’s touch from her skin.

%%%%%

Deep gold eyes hotly stared down light hazel ones, peering into them as if seeking the very depths of her soul. Deep, steady breaths were the only sound in the room, the rhythmic noise reflecting the profound concentration between the two young people.

“Are you sure?” Al asked, leaning in closer, his gaze still locked with the young woman’s in front of him.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” she responded in challenge, never once flinching.

“I’m out!” he declared after picking up the card she had just tossed down and slapped his handful of cards onto the surface of the table. He dropped a final card onto the discard pile and beamed at her triumphantly.

Paninya’s eyes went wide then she frowned with frustration, “Aww! Not again! That’s the fourth time in a row you’ve beat me!” She threw her cards onto the table where they fanned out and scattered.

Al just chuckled in response as he gathered up the cards, “I did ask you if you were sure about throwing away that last card.” He scraped them into a deck and began to shuffle, “You gave me the very one I needed to go out. Another game?”

The ex-pickpocket favored Al with a lemony expression, “No way! You’ll just beat me again!” She sat back in her chair and stretched, straightening her spine and causing several vertebrae to shift and pop.

Of course, Al couldn’t resist taking a moment to admire her tanned skin and lightly muscled physique, but shyly lowered his gaze when she sat forward again. In the five years since he had been released from his metal prison, girls had become quite an interesting subject to him, one that challenged his intellect and curiosity. While he had dated a bit here and there, women were still quite the mystery and Al loved nothing more than a solving a mystery.

Paninya heaved a sigh of boredom. She plunked her elbows onto the tabletop and propped her chin on her hands, “It’s been almost two hours. When do you think those two will come up for air?”

Again, Al chuckled, amused that Paninya was thinking the same thing as him, “Probably not too much longer. But Winry doesn’t seem very happy with Ed lately and I’m not so sure she’ll want to do anything other than work on his automail.”

“I know. I could tell by the Winry’s talks about him lately. Nothing specific, but I can tell by the way she complains that she’s cheesed off about something.” She raised a curious eyebrow, “You wouldn’t happen to know, would you?”

Al shrugged, at a loss for an explanation, “No, not really. They seem to fight a lot more than they used to, but sometimes I think they use arguing as foreplay.”

Paninya guffawed, “I think your right, Al!” She sat straight again and slapped her hands on her knees, “I’m bored! Let’s walk back to Garfiel’s and see what trouble we can stir up!”

Al nodded in agreement, “I think the bartender is ready to throw us out, anyway. We haven’t bought any soda in over an hour.”

As if he had heard Al’s remark, the huge, balding man polishing glasses behind the bar gave him a dirty look.

“Yup, time to go. Gino is getting antsy,” Paninya harrumphed. They stood and made their way to the door, Al pausing to let the young woman go through first. The pair squinted against the harsh desert sunlight as they stepped out from the pub’s dim interior, their eyes unable to adjust right away.

“Alphonse! I found you! Let’s go!”

Al started and turned, squinting in the direction of his brother’s angry voice. Ed was pacing toward them, each heavy footfall stirring up a small cloud of dust from the unpaved street.

“Ed? Go where?” he asked, puzzled by his brother’s vague statement.

“Back to Central!” Ed declared in a snarl as he brushed past Al and Paninya and continued down the street in the direction of the train station.

“But why?” Al protested. He lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the sun so he could see his brother better, “We just got here!”

“Yeah,” Paninya chimed in with a big grin, “Besides, the next train isn’t leaving for another four hours. Wouldn’t you rather wait back at Garfiel’s with Winry, Al, and me?”

Ed turned to aim a deadly glare at her and bared his teeth. “Mind your own business!” he snapped, “There’s no way I’m staying here, especially at Garfiel’s, for that long. You couldn’t make me stay anywhere near that bit—“

“Ed!” Al shot back, “Don’t be so rude! Paninya was only trying to—“

“Let’s GO, Al!” Ed cut him off. Quiet fury flashed in his bright gold eyes as he stared Al down, then he stomped away from the pair.

“What the—. What’s eatin’ him?” Paninya drawled. She touched a thoughtful finger to her chin, “I wonder happened between those two this time?”

Al watched his older brother disappear around a street corner before turning back to the dark-skinned woman, “I don’t’ know, but whatever it was, it’s pretty serious this time. You’d better go talk to Winry. I’ll bet she’s really upset, too.”

“I’m on it!” Paninya trotted off in the direction of the automail studio where Winry worked, “Catch up with you next time, Al!” She waved over her shoulder.

“Okay!”

Al almost needed to run to catch up with Ed and was gasping for breath by the time he came level with his older brother, nearly a block later. He matched Ed’s pace for a bit to catch his breath so he could speak without straining. “Brother?” he ventured cautiously.

“WHAT?!”

“What happened between you and Winry?”

“We had a fight!”

“Go back and apologize. You know she never stays mad at you for long. I’m sure when—“

“I can’t!” Ed seemed to step up his pace, forcing Al to keep up.

“Yes you can!” Al scolded, “Stop being stubborn and just tell her you’re sorry!”

“I. CAN’T!” Ed snarled and came to an abrupt halt, causing Al to stumble to a stop so he wouldn’t walk past him. Ed jerked his body around to look at his younger brother and Al was struck by the odd look in his eyes. There was anger, of course, but there was also confusion and hurt. Whatever had happened, this fight had been a doozy.

Still, anger was the predominate emotion and Al knew that Ed became even more obstinate than usual when he was like this. He needed to go back and talk things out with his girlfriend and make things right before they left.

“Why” can’t you? he persisted, crossing his arms over his chest and mirroring Ed’s stubbornness.

Ed’s face screwed up with emotion and he mumbled something unintelligible before stomping off again. Al scurried and caught up a few steps later.

“Ed—“

“I said…” Ed swallowed hard and hesitated before continuing, “She broke up with me. She told me…to find another mechanic and never come back.”

The confession stupefied Al into silence; he simply couldn’t believe what his older brother had just told him. Ed and Winry fighting was not an uncommon thing but Winry telling Ed to look for another mechanic—that was cause for alarm. Typically, Winry would never let Ed even so much as consider letting anyone else work on her masterpieces let alone the fact it would be difficult for someone else to effect repairs or adjustments.

“Sh-she broke up with me,” Ed reiterated in a near whisper. Beneath the mask of anger, Al recognized the subtle anguish reflected on his brother’s face and could even see a faint sparkle in his eyes.

This had been no ordinary fight.

The pair continued on in silence, exchanging no words between them, not even after Ed had purchased the tickets and they settled onto a bench outside the station for the long wait until the train to come in. It was some time later before Al could formulate any kind of a response that wouldn’t trigger his brother’s anger or drive him away.

“Ed?”

Silence.

“You know Winry loves you, right?”

Ed squirmed a bit then shrugged. “I thought she did. I guess I was wrong.”

“She’s just mad at you, Brother. I know she’ll get over it. She always does because she loves you.”

A defeated sigh. “It’s different this time, Al. She meant what she said.”

“Then you have to find a way to change her mind. Right?”

Ed’s gaze went distant, unfocused for a long while as he looked across the tracks out into the open expanse of mountainous, rocky landscape. Finally, he nodded and his jaw set with renewed determination.

“Yeah. You’re right. But for now, I have to go back to Central. I need time to think and figure out some stuff.”

“Don’t wait too long, Ed.”

“I won’t.” Ed looked up at the clear sky and yawned, “It’s awfully hot here, isn’t it?” This was Ed’s way of saying he didn’t want to talk about the situation between he and Winry anymore; changing the subject had been his habit of diversion ever since Al could remember. But it also signified that Ed wasn’t going to give up so easily.

Content with this knowledge, Al smiled as he tipped his head back to look up at the cloudless expanse of sapphire blue along with his brother.

“Yup. Sure is.”


To be continued in Part 2