For those of you who read my Spirited Away story and have been wondering whether I'm alive…well, here's proof. And I won't get distracted with this story since it's a one-shot.

I disclaim.

Soy Milk

Ed hated milk.

Yep. He hated it.

He hated the plain, unassuming white colour that spoke nothing of the horrors if one were to drink it. Plus, there was that awful constipated cow smell but worst of all, it was the taste. That taste – if it could even be called that – made his stomach curl inside out and flip upside down, several times. If someone was to listen to him about his opinion on milk a.k.a. cow juice, they would know why he hated it so much. Sadly, no one ever did. Hey, it wasn't his fault that Winry had a higher, shriller voice that could pierce through walls and brain cells alike, and even Al's voice could match Winry's if he worked up to it, usually with the stepping stone of an orphaned cat.

However, Ed was pulled out of his half-asleep musings by the sharp sunlight that struck him across the face like cold water and the childish, tinny voice of Al nudging him to get up. In response he merely rolled over and snuggled deeper into the quilts, trying to remember all the terrible things about the dreaded, four letter word that began with an 'M' while Al sighed exasperatedly behind him. Ed unexpectedly had the strangest, fleeting thought that maybe his brother had suddenly learnt to read minds overnight, causing him to sit up in his face like a cork popped from a bottle, but this cork had narrow, squinty eyes (not that Ed would ever admit it) that glared straight up at him.

"What was that sigh for?" Ed asked pointedly.

"Ah, nothing!" Al clankingly backed away and simultaneously changed the topic. "Remember you reminded me to wake you early?"

"Why?" Ed asked, the cogs in his brain refusing to move at this point in time.

"Because we're going to the library today."

"Oh!" Now he remembered. In an instant he was out of bed and almost tripping over Al on his way to the bathroom.

Apart from the slightly unusual start to the morning, everything else was perfectly quiet and normal. Perhaps too normal, he contemplated while looking down at the flight of stairs that led out of the library, half expecting them to turn into a dangerous oil-coated slide with stone spikes leaping out to impale him. Yet, as he descended the first step with Al right behind him, there were no spikes at all. Not even oil. It was almost too good to be –

"ED!"

He jumped, paranoia getting to him but only saw a pretty blonde girl not too far off. It took a moment for his eyes and brain to click together to get Winry.

Oh right…Winry. She had arrived in Central just yesterday, and after spending the day with him and Al, she had gone to visit Hughes's family and they hadn't seen her since. Right now she was the furthest thing from his mind after a long day of researching more about the Philosopher's Stone. Or – he caught her furious expression determinedly fixed on him – maybe not.

Abruptly his thoughts shifted as he recalled what he thought about Winry. Was it just him or did he actually say she was pretty?

"Brother," Al said while peering at him closely. "Are you blushing?"

"What!" He quickly tried to quell his flaming cheeks but instead turned brighter. Seeing his brother's gaze still trained on him he added hastily, "It's just the lighting – the sunset you know."

Al wasn't convinced but he didn't press the issue as a very angry-looking Winry stomped up to them and cut through the pretence of civil 'hellos' by hitting Ed's head – hard – with a strangely shaped crowbar and menacingly said, "You didn't drink the milk I left you yesterday!"

"Really? Where was this milk?" he asked, scratching his head with one finger, trying to play innocent but failing horribly.

"Idiot!" Winry shouted, hitting his head again with what he now glimpsed as a large, glass bottle filled with milk that was now waved threateningly in his face. "Come on," Winry said angrily, pulling him along. "You're going home, and once we're there, I am going to watch you drink all of this."

"I am not drinking cow juice!" Ed yelled and turned to his brother standing unobtrusively behind them. "Right, Al?"

"Milk is good for you, brother," he replied, "for someone of your sh –"

"Don't say it!" Ed growled, fuming all the way home at the unfairness of it all and hardly paying attention to his surroundings; that is until he almost crashed into Winry who had stopped suddenly. "What?" he asked, peering over her shoulder. Then his eyes widened at the large, red poster plastered on the shop window that read:

Tired of cow milk? Enjoy soy milk instead!

Underneath it was a string of small words detailing the latest product, but that wasn't what caught Ed's eye. At the top corner of the poster was a drawing of a cow with a thick red cross through it and again he had a funny feeling that even posters could read his mind today. He glanced at Winry, unconsciously stepping back a little at seeing her thoughtful, almost calculating expression. Already he expected her to cheer and race into the shop to buy bottles and bottles of this so-called 'soy milk' that was cow-free. However, Winry calmly turned away and neither Ed nor Al dared to risk their safety by questioning her actions.

Back at home after thirteen not-quite-coincidental setbacks, Ed was about to face the doom of his life but a knock at the door gave him the chance to carelessly fling his auto-mail arm (for extra force) in the precise direction of the glass bottle, thereby ending the fiasco that was milk.

Well, at least for one night.

The next day found Ed almost skipping – but not quite; he had too much dignity for that – towards the library again after realising that morning he needed to do more research. He was undeniably happy today, and he had every right to be after last night.

Stepping into the quiet confines of the musty library, he nodded a greeting to the librarian at the front desk. Just as he was about to disappear into the bookshelves, the librarian suddenly called, "Major Elric, Colonel Mustang wishes to see you in his office right away."

Ed stopped mid-step with an annoyed frown on his face. He thanked the librarian with the most neutral expression he could muster and practically stalked out.

What on earth could Mustang want with him at this hour? It was a well-known fact that his superior loved to sleep in, so there had to be a good reason why he was up so early. Muttering under his breath about bastard colonels and that he had better have a good lead on the Philosopher's Stone this time, Ed nearly missed his office and had to backtrack surreptitiously, though he still earned a few strange looks.

He didn't trust himself to knock respectfully on the polished oak door, not after the bastard interrupted his quiet research time so instead he yanked the door open, and stopped dead in his tracks.

Smack-bang in the middle of the office was Mustang, sitting and smirking behind the heavy desk with a tall glass of milk right in front of him. Around the desk was…well, everyone he knew in Central, including Winry who he targeted his glare at. "You set this up didn't you?" he accused, suddenly realising the implications of yesterday's events all too clearly.

"It's okay Brother," Al said quickly, "it's just soy milk."

"Soy milk, cow milk, it's all the same!" Ed howled, already feeling his day turning upside down. He didn't think Al, his own brother, would betray him like this. Didn't he want him to have a milk-free life?

"Fullmetal," Mustang said, immediately catching his attention, "you're going to drink it, unless you want to continue providing a source of short entertainment."

Ed nearly exploded. "Why you insolent bastard!" He shook his fist in that smirking face angrily. "Who are you calling a –"

He choked on the rest of his words as a gloved hand was clapped over his mouth. Mustang's smirk widened and he continued, "Don't forget, shorty, that when people get older they stop growing and eventually they may get even shorter."

"I AM NOT SHORT!" Ed roared and leapt straight at him, fists pummelling everywhere but Al quickly pulled him back with great difficulty. After a full minute of kicking, punching and ear-splitting death threats that shook the whole of headquarters like an earthquake, Ed slowly began to calm down, forcing himself to take heavy, panting breaths while in the face of his sadistic superior.

"Now that you're done," Mustang said, calm throughout the entire ordeal, "all you have to do is drink the milk. If you drink all of it, I'll double your research funds." He paused, watching the gears turn in Ed's head. "If you don't drink it all, you'll have to do all my paperwork for a month. Is that clear?"

"Fine, watch me drink it!" Ed growled out after a pause. "…lazy bastard," he muttered under his breath.

"Sir," Lieutenant Hawkeye said disapprovingly, obviously left out on the finer details of the deal, "don't you think you're being irresponsible?"

Mustang shrugged and said, "He agreed to it."

Ed's hand paused momentarily in the act of reaching for the glass as he said, "You've been waiting for this moment all along haven't you?"

Mustang was smug. "Of course."

Ed let out a growl of frustration but withheld from commenting further – he was sure that if he kept getting worked up like this he'd have grey hair by twenty years of age. Then he slowly raised the glass to his lips and took a deliberate, long sniff. He noted that it smelt a little strange, but it wasn't that bad. From the sidelines he heard his brother and Mustang's subordinates call out encouragingly, and from the corner of his peripheral vision he saw Hughes positioning himself for a photo. At that moment he hated the attention on him and suddenly knew what it was like to be Elysia. He glared sideways at Winry, the definite culprit to his spotlight attention who was now nodding firmly. A heavy, defeated sigh escaped him; the sooner he drank that thing, the sooner it'd all be over.

And he took a huge gulp.

And another.

On the third time something felt very wrong; maybe it was Hughes's camera flashing three times a second, maybe it was the cheers that erupted around him, maybe it was just the milk, but whatever the reason he began to feel very light-headed, like the world was spinning topsy-turvy. His throat tightened and refused to swallow and his stomach clenched before he gagged and coughed up the foul-smelling milk all over the plush red carpet to the shock and concern of the others. When he finally wiped his mouth and looked up, the first person he saw was Winry next to him with worry written all over her face. Then he saw the damage done on the carpet. "Uh, well…it was just an accident?" He grinned quickly, hoping and wishing that Winry wasn't taking it too hard – he had made her cry too many times already.

Winry took a deep breath – at this point Ed thought she was going to do one of her girl things – but instead she yelled, "Idiot!" Ed winced as her fist connected with his head.

"Sorry, sorry," he said quickly. "I'll clean it up."

"No, it's okay –"

Hawkeye cleared her throat behind them. "I think the Colonel can clean up the mess, since Edward will be doing his paperwork. Isn't that right?" She gave Mustang a stern look that she usually used when Black Hayate was naughty.

Mustang almost quailed under her stare. "I'll do it," he agreed quickly.

Next to him, Ed looked mournfully at the mushy white mess already fading into the carpet. He had so been looking forward to that extra money to avoid seeing more of the bastard Colonel…but it didn't quite work out that way.

Ed sighed; there were some things he – a genius in everyone's eyes – just couldn't do, and drinking milk was one of them.

…I'm not too sure how that turned out. I've never been really good at one-shots, but I've definitely improved, if you would read my first fic. Wait, don't read it.

On a side note, I never knew surreptitiously was spelt like that.

Feedback is much appreciated!