Edward Elric didn't know if it was the constant banging or the nonstop nagging that was giving him a headache, but he didn't complain because he really did deserve it. After all, this was the third time in less than a week that he had shown up needing his automail repaired.

After the first twenty or so minutes of yelling, he had tuned out his mechanic's words and had settled for simply nodding whenever it seem appropriate, which was why he hadn't even realized that his childhood friend had asked him a question until her wrench connected with his skull.

"What the hell have you been doing that has been messing MY automail up so badly!" she asked and the young alchemist just responded with a small shrug and sheepish grin instead of answering.

There was no way he would ever tell her that he'd been taking a hammer to his own leg just so he could watch her breast jiggle and hope that with every swing of the hammer she took, trying to bang the dents out of the metal plates, that they just might bounce free of that tiny piece of black cloth she claimed was a shirt.