Edward's POV

"You see that girl over there, Edward?"

I followed the gaze of my friend and coworker to a girl sitting by herself at a far table. She looked sad for some reason, I noticed. "What about her?"

Roy Mustang grinned at me. "You think I can get her to dance with me?"

The strobe lights flashed brightly, blue in some places, red and purple in others. I shrugged. "Why should I care?"

"She wouldn't dance with you," he reminded me, irking my nerves.

"Yes, Mustang, I remember," I ground out. "I don't care what you do." At that, I turned my back on him and stormed off. I reached the back, where I sat to fume to myself. A waitress came by, inquiring whether I wanted a drink or not. I ordered rum and tea, deciding it was time for one. I didn't normally drink but Mustang…I could barely stand to be around him for more than 20 minutes before losing my temper.

I watched him charm his way into her heart, holding her hand, even going as far as kissing her lightly. She smiled sweetly before throwing her drink in his face. At that, I roared with laughter, gaining weird looks. I didn't care.

That has been happening a lot to Roy Mustang. He was a womanizer, yes, but somehow his charm wasn't working so well lately. He found me and sat down across from me, ordering something strong when the waitress brought my drink.

"I didn't know you drank," he commented roughly, shaking the drink out of his hair.

"I don't," I replied before downing half of it. The burn wasn't so bad this time. "Not normally."

"Yeah," he said, lighting a cigarette. "Disgusting habit."

"So why'd she throw the drink in your face?"

"I will have her," he said forcefully. A strange glint showed in his eyes. "I love a woman that plays hard to get."

I shuddered. "Ugh, Mustang." I said. "Whatever you do, don't make her kill you." I sighed. "Or maybe let her. Maybe it'll be a plus."

"I have to find out her name," he mumbled to himself.

I groaned inwardly. Only Mustang… I glanced at her. She looked smug, pulling her light hair up into a ponytail. She gathered her things, and made her way to the door. Before she got there, however, Mustang intercepted her. I sighed. She was going to kill him. Without a shadow of a doubt, she was going to kill him. I made a mental note to plan the funeral, watching carefully.

Surprisingly, there was no one killed, and I felt faint. Even after having a drink thrown in his face, he oozed charm, and managed to get her name. I sighed. That's okay, I didn't need a woman… We began to walk outside.

"Riza Hawkeye," he said, hopping into the driver's side of the car.

"Is that her name?" I groaned. "Nevermind. Forget I asked."

"He cranked the car. "Yes, that's her name." He smiled, which I rarely ever saw him do, and started to drive. "Yes, I'll take her out on a date…"

When I got home, I tossed my coat over a chair and sat down hard on the couch. "Al! I'm home!"

My younger brother walked around the corner, drying his long hair with a towel. He was shirtless and barefoot, so I knew he'd just gotten out of the shower. "Hey, brother. How did it go?"

"Well, Mustang got some girl's name and a drink thrown in his face. Other than that it was pretty uneventful."

"Oh," he said, sitting down beside me. "Winry called. She demanded that you call her back."

I yanked off my tie and vest, cursing to myself. Winry Rockbell was my best friend, but since I turned 21, she's been on my case to take her on a date. She's turned into a fangirl—loud and obnoxious. "She'll get over it," I muttered. "She'll live if I don't call her."

"When I told her you went out to a bar with Mustang, she freaked out," Al told me. "You better call her."

"I'm not calling her if she's freaking out," I grumbled. "She can wait."

"It'll get worse," he said, getting up to put his towel away. "Call her before she calls you…"

I growled, jerking up the phone and dialing her number. She answered and I could hear the tears in her voice.

"Winry?"

"Edward! It's about time you called! Why did you go to a bar?!" She demanded.

"Because I'm old enough, Mom," I snapped. "What did you want?!"

"Can you come over?"

"I'm not taking you on a date, Winry," I said gruffly. "So stop hinting at it. Sorry."

I heard her huff of anger, knowing now she wasn't really upset when I called. Stupid deceptive woman. "Well, when are you going to ask me on a date, Ed?"

"Never!" I snapped. "So stop! I don't want you as a girlfriend, Winry!"

"You're such a stubborn boy, ED!" She shrieked before slamming the phone down.

"Brother, why are you so mean to Winry?" Al asked.

"She's annoying, Al. Have you even talked to her lately? She's about as bad as those girls at work, pointing and giggling." I sighed. "That's annoying."

He shrugged. "It's not so bad."

I pulled my shirt off, taking my boots off. I pulled the braid out of my hair, brushing it out with my fingers. I propped my feet on a coffee table, leaning my head against the back of the couch. About the time I got relaxed, there was knocking at the door. I groaned. "Al, do you mind getting that?"

I heard his footsteps and a woman's voice. I jerked up and pulled my hair out of my face. I stood by Al at the door, my breath catching in my throat, my chest tightening painfully.

In front of us stood an angel. Her long fiery hair hung to her waist. She was soaked to the bone, her shirt clinging to her small frame, her jeans completely soaked, dripping with water. The only thing marring that beautiful face was a long cut under her gray-blue eyes, across the bridge of her nose.

"Can you help me…?" she whispered, looking up shyly. Her face, the part that wasn't covered in blood, turned pink, seeing us shirtless. "Or I could go to someone else's house..."

"Don't be silly," Al said, scrambling out of her way. "Come on in. I know it's a mess."

"Thank you," She whispered. "Your name is Alphonse, right?"

"Yes," Al said. "But how do you know my name?"

"Someone told me," She replied.

I finally snapped out of my trance. "Al, go get her some towels. And a pair of my shorts and a shirt," I commanded. I went to get the alcohol and a washrag, grabbing a stool along the way. I plopped the stool in the middle of the floor, then pulled the nameless girl in between my legs. "Now, this may hurt a bit, but don't jerk, okay?"

She nodded, looking up. "Yes, Edward."

I doused the rag with the alcohol and, feeling guilty, put it on the cut. She cried out, then started to whimper softly. "Sorry…" I said.

"Are these enough towels, brother?"Al asked, walking in. He threw the stuff on the couch. "Brother! What's going on?"

"Chill out, Al. I'm cleaning the blood off her face," I said, inspecting the cut. It wasn't too deep, I noticed with relief. It was just bleeding a lot. Enough to be intimidating, anyways. I taped some bandages to her face and grinned. "That should do it!" I stood, helping her up. "If you want to take a shower or whatever, the bathroom is on the left. Make sure you lock the door. It comes open pretty easily."

She nodded, blushing prettily. "Okay." She began to walk off but paused when I started to speak.

"By the way, what's your name?"

Later that night, when the rain stopped, and we'd taken the girl home (with firm instructions to call us if she needed help, of course) it dawned on me—I still didn't know her name. I cursed to myself. After all that, I hadn't found out her name! She'd merely giggled when we'd asked what to call her, and skirted the issue by asking if we could take her to her house. And, being the biggest loser on the planet, I didn't think about asking her for a price—her name. I felt about 10 inches tall.

"Al," I moaned wearily, curling up into a ball on the couch.

"What, brother?"

"I didn't get her name!"

Al burst out laughting. "Well, brother, you should have tried harder."

I groaned inwardly, furious with myself. The one woman I am truly interested in was IN MY HOUSE, RIGHT IN MY GRASP, and I FORGOT TO GET HER NAME. I could see Mustang's face now. 'Well, Ed, I'm truly impressed. You've really outdone yourself! It just goes to show that you have no charm whatsoever.' I growled to myself. I wanted to punch the jerk already.

"Don't look so down. Maybe she'll come back," Al said hopefully.

"Yeah," I pouted. "Maybe." The phone rang and I practically tripped over myself getting to it. "Hello?!" I barked.

"Ed. Hi. Guess who I got to go on a date with me?"

Ugh. Mustang's smug voice. I slammed the phone down. I was not getting any sleep tonight, I thought. If things kept up…I'd either go crazy or explode. Either way it wasn't looking good for me. I buried my face in my hands. "Just shoot me now and get it over with," I muttered to myself.

Al laughed as he curled up in a chair with a book. "Brother, it's not that bad."

"Yeah, I know. But Mustang…has a date. And I can't even get a lousy NAME," I said with anguish in my voice.

"Stop beating yourself up about it. We do know where she lives," Al pointed out.

I instantly perked up. "That's right!"

Maybe it wasn't so bad after all…

I cursed loudly when we got to the girl's house. There was no car, no sign of her being anywhere near the now-empty house. Al was wise to keep quiet since if he spoke, I would've turned on him. I was angry…very. I would probably never find her now…

Which, I should've expected it, with the way my luck runs. I meet a beautiful girl, take care of her, and now I don't know where she is…

Lord, I need a drink.