Title: Like Oil and Water
Author: Auto-Alchemechanicist
Series: Any
Word Count: 1,282
Rating: Between K & T, so I guess K+ because of curse words.
Characters: Edward, Winry
Theme: 162: Unusual Pairings
Summary: The author is trying to write in peace, but Edward begins to interfere and disrupts the concentration of her many random thoughts.
Warnings: NERD ALERT. Somewhere in the story. Parody!fic.
A/N: This was a very spontaneous idea. I missed writing for FMA and stumbled upon the theme. The title came after the story was written, and thanks to my chem class I know that I am (hopefully) using the concept correctly. Just a tip: if you are wondering about the author, it's me, if that's not obvious enough. Expect major randomness since this is a parody fic and was written for fun. I also explored a side I never really tap into: what Ed thinks when a fangirl writes about him and Winry. Well, what I think he would think if he encounters me writing about him and Winry. That #awkwardmoment when your favorite character walks into your room and suddenly shuts down your computer. Enjoy!
Part of Livejournal's fma_fic_contest
Like Oil and Water
How could auburn mix with cobalt, abstract with concrete, solidity with fluency? When one thinks they could kiss, they deceive the person with their patterns of uncertainty and coy emotions. Yet they are so alike: two metals, two gems, two negatively and positively charged ions that would love to exchange electrons, or share them if it were possible. That's the problem. Like dissolves like. Like repels like. Like does not accept like if it's from the same group. They are so confusing, so contradicting it makes them an unconventional pair.
If you thought they were perfect for each other, you are completely and utterly wrong.
Whatever led you to those thoughts must have really been at your brain because it's not likely for it to happen. The universe would go insane. The enthalpy of the universe would surely rise because of its confusion for whether or not to have to reach its lowest energy state. The balance of the world would be tipped off on the wrong side and spill the contents of the cornucopia that harbors the common sense of the world.
"Are you trying to be a narrator?"
"…"
"That's right, I'm talking to you."
"Um…no comment."
Edward stares with a grim expression. With his automail hand he nonchalantly pushes the computer away and blocks the writer's means of communicating the story. The author is considering whether being screwed is a good thing or a bad thing.
"You better believe it's a bad thing," he answers the thoughts of the author. "And you better know what you're talking about when you deal with chemistry, you idiot."
"You know, I really want to complete this before the deadline, so if you don't mind, I'd like my computer back," the author says, trying to show a brave face in front of his intimidating frown.
Edward narrows his eyes. "I won't let you."
"Oh yes, you will!" she yells as she jumps out of her chair and reaches for her computer.
He pushes her away easily with his metal hand. To her disdain, she cannot fight his strength and sits back in her chair.
"Okay, if you want to win, then you win. I won't complete this."
"That's the way it should be," Ed says as he tries to shut down the computer.
"Although I do have school computers," the author thinks out loud.
"If you were to write about something different, I wouldn't mind. But you're trying to write about my private life. You sick, sick person," Edward begins to rant as he walks around the room, imitating a bad cop from the movies. "Better yet, I'll transmute it into something useful."
"NO!" the author yells.
"That'll teach you to mess with my private life."
"The only thing you need is your doughnut," the author completes the thought.
"No. What I need is the means to destroy that computer of yours that is filled with evilness," Ed counters
"Can't you just let me type in peace and stop itching at my conscience?" the author asks as she rolls her eyes in annoyance.
"Only if you would write about something that doesn't involve me in a romantic relationship with Winry," Ed answers.
The author begins to stutter out her answers. "But…you and her…the show ended…the two of you…it was meant to be…I like peaches…"
"TO HELL WITH THE SHOW!" he explodes.
The author shrinks in her chair. "You don't have to be so mean about it…" she spots a mosquito, "…flyyyyyy."
"You have a really short attention span," Ed interjects.
"I know," the author admits. "I just have so many ideas for you two. The pairing is perfect."
"The COW made it perfect for you fangirls," Ed goes on. "Can't you just leave me alone?"
"Why?" The author makes a face of confusion.
Ed points at her with his metal index finger. "Would you like for me to write about you in weird, romantic situations with the boy you like?"
"If you're trying to make me feel guilty, it's not working," the author answers back with an unimpressed face.
"Why?"
"Because if there were reports written about Bruno Mars and me, the world and my life would be complete," the author says.
Ed tries to keep himself from chocking her. "What is it with you and that mainstream artist?"
"He's amazing…just the way he is."
"I'm sure," Ed answers sarcastically.
"Come on, Ed," the author begins. "You know you would catch a grenade for Winry."
"No, I wouldn't. Well…it depends. On what circumstances?"
"Unrequited love."
"Let's avoid death."
"You'd talk to the moon, hoping she's on the other side, talking to you too."
"No, I wouldn't. And that sounds gay."
"But it's not."
"Yes, it is."
"You wouldn't chase other girls because they have nothing on her."
"No, I wouldn't."
"You'd want to meet her somewhere in Resembool."
"I do that every day."
"You'd do it all over again for her."
"No, I wouldn't.
"You'd need medication if she ever left you. And there would be no sunlight, or clear skies, and every day it would rain for you."
"No, I wouldn't. Why would I cry for something like that?"
"You just would."
"How do you know?"
"Please, Ed, we authors know you a lot more than you know yourself. And that's because you're a complicated, abstract character."
"Sure."
"Then, you would set fire to the rain like Adele?"
"What! You're starting to get on my nerves' nerves."
"Hm…you'd want to marry her."
"No, I wouldn't. Well…if I'm too drunk and stuff, maybe."
"No, you wouldn't."
"You're right. I wouldn't marry her."
"That's not what the cow drew and wrote on her story."
"You know what? Just screw the storyline; I'm a stray character."
"Can I go back to writing my story now?"
"NO. What is it with everyone thinking we are together just because the cow decided upon it? Can't I have a say in this?"
Edward suddenly falls, face-forward, on the ground and releases the computer that was missed by the author. A wrench is by his side with a few blood stains. Edward, even though he is facing the ground, looks like he could pass out at any moment.
"Winry, what the hell was that for?" he yells.
"Can you let her finish?" Winry asks as she picks up her wrench.
"Don't tell me you're a fan of the cow's work!" Ed says as he raises his head and his voice.
"She created us, so I guess I kinda have to."
"Are you a fan of her work?" Ed points at the author rudely.
"Why not?" Winry asks.
The author gives him a smug smile.
"I don't understand you sometimes," he says.
"That doesn't surprise me since you rarely understand the things I say," Winry replies.
"You sound like a nagging wife!"
"I would stop being one if you would stop acting like a bone-headed husband!"
"That is so like you to go against me like that!" Ed begins.
"That is so like you to be an ass!" Winry says.
"That is so like them to argue like that," the author mumbles under her breath as she starts typing her interrupted story.
Before she knows it, the two are at their usual heated arguments with non-stop insults and violent reactions.
"Grease monkey!"
"Half-pint!"
"Tomboy!"
"Alchemy geek!"
The author wonders how Arakawa was able to make such an unusual pairing, one that never agrees on anything, one that is always on the opposite end, one with the two people in the world that would repel and attract each other at the same time; one that would need a lot of energy to separate completely…like oil and water.
So, I'm resting for the summer, which means I get to do many, many things. Writing is at the top of my list. :D R/R, plz! Support is love!
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