You'll learn when you get older

"Give me back my pencil!"

"Nu-uh, I need it!"

"You don't need it, you have your own pencil in your schoolbag!" Winry leaned over her desk to grasp the pencil out of Ed's hand, but he kept it just out of her reach, smiling wickedly. "My pencil's point broke! So go find your own pencil, this one's mine!" Ed shouted back, protectively cupping the pencil in two hands.

"I thought you were such a great alchemist, but you can't even fix a broken pencil point!"

"Yes I can! I just need this pencil to draw the circle!"

"Well then go right ahead." Winry said, crossing her arms over her chest so firmly it seemed she'd never let go again. Ed gritted his teeth. Why hadn't that stupid book explained the circle for carbon transmutation yet! "Nope, don't feel like it."

"Ha! You can't do it, can you?" Winry blurted out in triumph.

"Can too!"

"Can not!"

"Can too!"

"Can not"

"Will you children BE QUIET!" The teacher loomed high above them, impatiently tapping the cover of the book she had been citing from. "Edward, give Winry the pencil back." She said in that annoying tone adults always addressed children with.

"No, I need it!" Edward replied stubbornly.

"Now."

Reluctantly, he put back the pencil on Winry's desk.

"And apologize."

His eyes snapped up at the teacher, coldly glaring her down. Unfortunately, six-year olds never made that big an impression.

"I am so very sorry I borrowed your pencil," He mumbled grudgingly to the window next to him. Winry ignored him, staring at the blackboard intensely. The teacher waited for just a second, but as she concluded that neither of the two children were going to give in any more than that, she sighed and hiked back to the blackboard, continuing her repetition of the numbers from zero to a hundred. Ed continued to defiantly stare out of the window, one hand propped under his chin. "It's not like I even need to take notes for something like this..." He grumbled.

"What was that, Edward?"

"...nothing, Miss Taylor."

The school bell rang, an the kids cheered as they rushed out of the school building, discussing enthusiastically where to play before going home, or holding contests about who would have the nicest dinner that evening. All children, except for the three blondes leaving the building last. They marched home in perfect silence. Al nervously walked in between of Ed an Winry, waiting for either one of them to explain why they refused to look at each other. Not that it was anything new. It was probably brother's fault anyway. "...brother, what did you do this time?" He asked timidly.

Ed snapped. "What do you mean, what did I do? Are you suspecting me? Who's side are you on anyways!"

"Don't talk to Al like that! Just because he's younger doesn't mean you have to-"

"Idiot! It is because I'm older I can talk to him however I want!"

"Don't call me an idiot!"

"I'll call you whatever I want! Idiot, idioooot"

"Those who call others an idiot are the real idiots!"

Alphonse sighed, and picked up the pace a little, so he walked in front of the duo that was now bickering nose-to-nose. He knew from experience that they wouldn't stop until they got out of hearing range after the cross-section to Winry's house.

When the brothers came home, Ed only shouted a brief hello in the direction of the kitchen, racing up the stairs. Before Al even had a chance to remove his shoes, he already heard Ed's door slam shut.

"Oh, Alphonse? Isn't your brother home with you?" Trisha emerged from the kitchen, drying her hands with a towel. "He went upstairs already." Alphonse answered, curious to what his brother was up to.

"Well, will you take his milk upstairs then, after you've finished yours?" She asked, while guiding him to the big kitchen table. Like everyday, two glasses of milk were waiting for the boys, and Trisha moved back to the counter to get herself a drink too. "How was your day, honey?" She asked while sitting down next to him.

"'t was okay." He mumbled.

"That doesn't sound very cheerful? Did something happen?" His mom gently inquired. Al went silent, thoughtfully sipping his milk, and Trisha waited patiently for him to mull over whatever was bothering him.

"Mom, why do Ed and Winry fight so much? What if they won't make up some day?" He asked eventually.

Trisha smiled softly, ruffling his hair. "I wouldn't worry about that, honey. They get along really well, in their own way." She replied, looking to him over her glass of milk.

"But they fight everyday!" Al exclaimed in concern.

"I think that's only their way to say how much they like being together." His mom tried to explain.

"Winry never yells at me. Does that...Is it because she doesn't like me?" He asked quietly, looking up at his mother pleadingly. "Oh no, sweetie! It's just that, well, it's like my mother always told me. 'Boys who tease little misses, are asking for their kisses'," Al thought this new information over for a while, then his eyes went wide when he realised what his mom meant. "Does that mean...he likes her?" He asked in shock.

"I guess you could say that. But don't tell Ed, okay? I don't think he has figured it out yet. He'll learn when he'll get older."

He nodded solemnly, then jumped of the chair, clutching his brother's cup of milk as he ran up the stairs.

As expected, Ed lay on his tummy in the middle of his room, frantically swishing through the pages of a big book with complicated arrays and tiny, scribbled notes. "Hey Al, this book mentioned carbon transmutation, right? Or was it the red one..." He looked up at Al as he held out the cup of milk for him. "Yuck," He made a face. "You drink it, I don't- What are you smiling about?" He asked suspiciously. Al's smile only grew wider, a twinkling playing through his golden eyes.

"You'll learn when you get older."

"Winry, you bitch! You could've killed me!" Ed got up, wiping the blood of his brow.

"That's what you get for thrashing you automail again! Look at it, there's nothing left!" Winry retorted, still clutching the arm-long wrench.

"It's not my fault it broke! It's just-"

"Don't you dare say it's my fault because I didn't fix it properly last time!" Winry yelled, her eyes shooting flames at the very thought of such an insult. "N-No, I'd never say that..." Ed mumbled, taken aback. "Just give me the arm already, I'll see what I can save." She said, holding her hand out imperiously.

"Thanks..."

Al sighed as he and Ed properly settled in the couch in the living room, while Winry headed for her workshop. Wincing, Ed pressed a compress to his head. "Damn that machine freak, she'll crack open my skull one day..."

"I heard that, you alchemy freak!" Came a muffled response from below their feet.

Ed drew breath for what would be a very colourful reply, but Al gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't do that, brother. She still fixes your limbs every time we break them." Ed snorted, but he settled back in the couch.

"...I know."

And so, Al established peace once again in the Rockbell home. Unfortunately, it never lasted for more than three hours in a row.

"I said I'm sorry!" Ed yelled over his plate of stew.

"I know Ed, I'm not deaf. Though I will be if you keep shouting like that." Winry replied coldly, not taken her eyes of her plate. Ed scowled. "Well then at least act like it!"

"Is there anything wrong with my behaviour then?" came the ever-so-polite response.

In between of the two quarrelling teenagers, Alphonse sat silently, remembering a conversation he had with his mother once, in a very similar kitchen. "...he still doesn't get it," He thought with a chuckle.

"What's so funny, Al?" Ed snapped at him. Not the least disturbed, Alphonse turned to him. "Nothing, big brother. You'll understand if you get older."

"You keep saying that! Do you even realize I AM older then you! Just spit it out already!" Ed exclaimed, narrowing his eyes at Al to make him speak by sheer big-brother intimidation while he took a sip of his drink. "It's just something mom told me when I was younger. You know, 'boys who tease little misses, are asking for their kisses,"

Ed chocked in his water, spewing it out over the table. "What's that supposed to mean!" He gasped, staring at his brother. On Al's other side, Winry froze, a pink blush spreading over her face. "I think it's pretty obvious, brother. It means that, when boys fight a lot with girls, the actually li-"

"I know what it means! I'm just asking what you mean with it! I mean, it's not like I-I" He faltered, with a face so glowing red Al could feel the heat it radiated in spite of his armour. If he had a body, he'd be grinning from ear to ear. Ed seemed to have trouble formulated a coherent sentence. "Really, it's not...I mean- I didn't..."

"Oh shut up, Edward, It's not like I'll ever allow you to get to Winry. I want great grandchildren whom I can find without a microscope," Pinako cut in.

Ed made a weird spluttering noise, caught between arguing he did not want to go anywhere with Winry or insist he was not small. As a compromise he just stuffed his mouth with a spoon of stew big enough to choke on, which of course, he did. Al gently slapped him on the back to stop the coughing, inwardly smirking at his brother's immature reaction. It had been too early to tell him. The he saw Winry, silently finishing her stew with pink cheeks and a soft smile on her lips.

Or maybe, it had been just the right time.