Title: Make My Way
Author: vanillavinegar
Rating: G
Summary: Winry gets used to life in Rush Valley; four vignettes.
Warnings: SPOILERS up to the Rush Valley arc (naturally).
Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist and all associated characters, settings, etc., belong to Hiromu Arakawa-san. The only profit I make from this work of fiction is my own satisfaction and, possibly, the enjoyment of others.
Author's Notes: The livejournal community help_nz held an auction where people could donate a certain amount of money to a charity supporting New Zealand after their earthquake in February and receive something fandom-related in return. seta_suzume won a fic from me and requested Winry, specifically "something set in canon when she's working at Garfiel's shop", and has kindly allowed me to share it elsewhere.

Write a review, get a response from the author – promise! :)

It was surprisingly easy to slip into life in Rush Valley, Winry found. Missing Granny was a new feeling, but missing the Elrics was normal – in fact, sometimes it was weirder to have them around than to miss them. That was hard to admit, but it was the truth – and her grandmother had always told her that there was no point in lying to yourself, of all people.

And Mr. Garfiel was so kind – one of those people who could immediately make others feel welcome. After he tested her knowledge of various automail procedures – he had examined Ed's arm and leg himself, as a sample of her previous work – he made a pot of tea and they spent the rest of the afternoon getting to know one another. As Winry headed to her new bedroom, she thought that she had been extremely fortunate in her teacher indeed.

The sun shining through her window the next morning woke her up. For a moment, she was thoroughly confused – where was she? Why was the light coming from the wrong direction? She sat up, realization hitting her all at once. No curtains on her window. No Granny shouting for her to stir her stumps, breakfast was ready. The air was drier, the sunlight harsher, and Winry was crying before she quite knew it.

Cry if you need to, girl, she heard her grandmother's voice in her memory. Cry, and let it go.

She sniffled, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. She'd have to wash her face; then, she supposed, breakfast, and time to see what Mr. Garfiel wanted done that day.

Mr. Garfiel was an extremely enthusiastic cook. Winry wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not, as he was also an extremely terrible cook. "Good morning, Winry, darling! Could you grab that cheese, there?"

Winry picked up the wedge, eyebrows furrowing as she gazed around the disaster that was the kitchen. "Um, do you mind if I ask what you're doing, sir?"

He tutted as she handed him the cheese. "Don't call me sir, dear, it makes me sound so old. And I'm making omelets, of course! Do you want cheese in yours?"

"Si—Mr. Garfiel, are those… eggs… in the blender?"

"Yes!"

Winry peered into the bowl of eggs that had yet to be pureed. Her nose wrinkled. "You do know these are expired, right?"

"Hmm?" He glanced from her face to the eggs. His expression fell. "Are they? How can you tell?"

"Risembool is all farm country," Winry explained tactfully. She picked up the blender and firmly poured the mess down the sink, turning her head so she wouldn't have to smell it. "When I was little, we'd sometimes help out at farms for some pocket change. Five cens for gathering eggs, fifteen for milking, that sort of thing."

Her teacher looked thoroughly disappointed. Winry bit her lip. She wasn't an expert chef – she helped her grandmother cook, of course, but Pinako's meals tended toward the plain and simple – well, and she had picked up a few things from Mrs. Gracia when she stayed with the Hughes'. "How about a trade, Mr. Garfiel?" she suggested. "I'll teach you a bit about cooking, and then you can teach me about automail."

He brightened. "You wouldn't mind, dear?"

Winry laughed. "Nope! As Ed and Al would say," she continued, setting the rinsed out blender down and smiling nostalgically, "it's only equivalent exchange."

Paninya was unlike anyone Winry had ever met. She liked to think that Paninya was unlike anyone else in the whole world – at the very least, she was completely different from the girls Winry had grown up with in Risembool. Light-fingered, unfailingly good-humored, and exuding mischief from every pore, Paninya quickly became a dear friend.

Unfortunately, Paninya had no concept of responsibility. "It's raining!" she cheered as she half-danced into the shop.

"Really? We hadn't noticed," Winry grunted, not looking up from the prosthetic ankle she was adjusting. Storms in the Valley were rare, but the thunder and lightning that accompanied them were unmistakable. She tightened another bolt and sat back on her haunches, satisfied. "That'll about do it, Mr. Drayton."

The man attached to the automail gingerly stood and took a few steps. His weathered face broke into a smile. "That's amazing, Miss Winry!"

"Just try to keep it clean of grit and it should stop sticking," she instructed. He nodded, settled his bill, and exited, still beaming with pleasure. Winry wiped her greasy hands on her already dirty overalls and rolled out a kink in her shoulder.

"Work's all done, time for some fun!" Paninya sang, bouncing over to her and slipping her arm through Winry's.

Winry gave her a skeptical look from the corner of her eye. "It's two o'clock. Shouldn't you be at the construction site?"

"Can't work in the rain!" Paninya replied cheerfully.

"Just because you can't doesn't mean I can't."

Paninya stuck out her tongue. "Peh. Nobody gets their automail adjusted in the rain."

"Mr. Drayton did," Winry pointed out.

"The exception that proves the rule." Paninya flapped her hand dismissively.

"Paninya…"

"No, it'll be fine! Watch." She darted down the hall to where Winry's teacher could be heard welding. "Hey, Mr. G! Can Winry skip out and go shopping with me this afternoon? It's just one day, and you know she hasn't had a chance to check out the market yet!"

There was silence for a few moments. Apparently Mr. Garfiel was thinking it over. "Why not? She hasn't taken a day off since she got here, after all."

"Thanks, Mr. G!" Paninya skipped back down the hall, beaming.

Winry covered her face with one hand. "I cannot believe you just did that."

"You're just wasting time being all disapproving. Come on, let's go!"

Winry sighed. "Will you promise to keep your sticky fingers out of anyone else's pockets?"

"You're no fun, you know that?"

Winry couldn't fight back her smile.

Dear Granny,

I got your letter yesterday. Please tell me you were joking about Mr. Dominic – you don't need to threaten him, he's been very kind about letting me poke around in his shop and watch him work. Between him and Mr. Garfiel, I think I've learned more in a couple of months than in the past two years combined! I can't wait to show you.

I've been working so much lately that everything else has seemed pretty quiet. Apparently there was a big fight at one of the bars the other night – you wouldn't believe how many fingers and knuckles we've replaced. Mr. Garfiel said maybe he should start some fights himself, it's so good for business.

We saw in the papers that the situation in Liore has just become worse and worse. I'm sorry about that, but I'm glad it's far from home. I worry about you and Den enough as it is.

Don't get huffy when I say I worry about you, Granny. I know you can take of yourself and anybody else who needs it. But it's so weird not to see you every day, and Den too. I miss you both.

If you see the Elrics sometime, make sure you give that idiot a good smack from me (Ed, not Al). I haven't heard from them in weeks, but with them no news is usually good news. If Ed's arm was messed up I know they'd come crawling back here, anyway.

Oh! Mr. Garfiel wanted me to send you some experimental oil he found in the market the other day. He thinks it's a good temperature reducer but a bit thick for frequent use – what do you think?

I've got a knee replacement in a half hour so I'll have to end this letter here. Be sure to let us know about the oil.

Please don't really scare Mr. Dominic, all right Granny?

Love to you and Den,

Winry

THE END