Once Mr. Jenkins' ankle joint was fixed to her satisfaction, Winry set the mechanism down and stretched. She didn't want to make a habit of working in the middle of the night, but sometimes she just . . . no wonder Ed called her a workaholic. Not that he wasn't the same about alchemy, but she felt guilty about using that comeback these days. She believed him when he said he didn't regret his decision one bit, but she couldn't imagine being confronted with a customer but unable to use a wrench anymore. It had to be at least a little frustrating for him.

As she shambled down the hallway, she decided to poke into Ed and Al's room to see if Al was awake. Much as he loved being able to sleep now, Al's body was having trouble adjusting to a regular sleep schedule. He'd gotten better at being able to sleep more than a few hours at a time, though, especially in the past couple weeks. His daytime naps were getting shorter and shorter.

But when she cracked the door open, she was surprised to see Ed sitting up in bed. "Hey, Winry," he greeted her.

Winry closed the door softly behind her. "Ed," she said. "I thought it would be -"

"Al awake?" Ed finished for her. "Nah. He's doing a lot better."

"He is, isn't he?"

"Yeah. I think he'll make it through the whole night." He lightly rapped his fist on his headboard. She smiled as she sat next to him, gazing at Al's sleeping face.

"He's such a cute sleeper," she said. He'd always been.

"Of course he is," said Ed.

She could imagine them having this conversation in a different context. They'd still be in a dark room, only with a cradle on the other side . . . she chuckled to herself.

"What?" asked Ed.

"If I didn't know better I'd say we were talking about -" Winry cut herself off. Was she about to say our baby? Our referring to her and Ed? They'd had their first kiss only a couple months ago and she was already bringing up children? Was she on drugs?

"Talking about what?" asked Ed.

"Nothing," Winry said sharply. "Just . . . some other creature that has trouble sleeping through the night."

"So . . . a bat?"

"Yes, Edward," said Winry sarcastically. "I was definitely making a comparison between Alphonse and a bat."

"Then what?"

She groaned. "It doesn't matter. It's late and I'm saying stupid things. Just forget about it, okay?"

"Um, kay," said Ed.

They sat in silence for a moment.

"Did you know there are some species of frog that don't sleep at all?"

With another groan, Winry's head fell into her hands.

"I'm just saying -"

"Please shut up, Ed."

"Well, fine." Ed folded his arms. "Why are you even up, anyway?"

"Why are you up?"

"I asked you first."

"Well maybe I don't feel like telling you."

"Maybe I don't feel like telling you either."

She rolled her eyes. "Do you have to be so difficult?"

"Why are you avoiding the question?"

"Ugh, fine!" Winry gave in. "It's not like it's a big deal. I was just working on automail. As usual."

"Uh huh," said Ed skeptically. "Then why'd you try to hide it?"

"I really was working on automail."

"I know that. I could hear you down the hall." Her eyes widened in surprise, and he gave a smug smirk. "What I want to know is why you ran to your workshop in the middle of the night. What could possibly be so urgent?"

Winry's fingertips clawed at the ends of her hair. "I don't want to tell you," she said. "You'll laugh at me."

"I promise not to laugh. Or I'll try not to, anyway."

Winry's grip tightened on her hair. "Actually, you can laugh," she said, changing her mind. "But you can't make fun of me later."

"Define 'later.'"

"Once we get up in the morning. Or any time after that. Forever."

"Okay, deal. Why'd you get up?"

"I had a dream."

"Yeah, that usually happens when you're asleep."

She hit his shoulder. "Shut up. It wasn't a good one."

His expression went from mocking to concerned. "You know I wouldn't laugh at you for having a bad dream, don't you?"

"You will when you know what it was about."

"What was it about?"

She hung her head. "I attached Mr. Jenkins' PF spring wrong. When I woke up, I had to make sure I hadn't actually done it."

True to form, Ed laughed. "Wow, Winry. You've officially sunk to new lows. That being said, I'm not surprised at all. Damn gearhead."

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up."

"I will. Considering I've only got about three hours to do so. I bet you'd done it right all along anyway."

"Yeah. I didn't really have anything to worry about."

"It's actually kind of disappointing," he said, "knowing it's automail that keeps you up at night, and not vivid fantasies of, oh, maybe me -"

She smacked him upside the head. "You're lucky I don't still have my wrench on me - and don't you make any lewd speculations about my relationship with my tools."

He gave her his most devilish grin. "So what's it gonna take for you to get all hot and bothered over my PF spring, huh?"

It was all she could do to keep the volume of her snarl down. "Shut up," she hissed.

"Make me."

Kissing him would do the trick. She made sure to dig her elbows into his stomach as she pounced on him, balancing her weight on them as she leaned up to meet his lips. He'd had the breath knocked out of him when the kiss started and he was gasping by the time it ended. "Touche," he choked out.

"So, Mr. Alchemist," she sniffed as she shifted her weight back on her haunches, "let's make an equivalent exchange. Why are you up so late?"

Ed frowned. "I think not making fun of you after tonight is equivalent enough."

"It's equivalent for not getting hit with a wrench."

"Like you don't do that anyway."

"Not like it couldn't get worse."

"You sadist."

"Masochist."

"Workaholic."

"Adrenaline junky."

"Crybaby."

"Jerkass."

"Nag."

"Bum."

"I am not!" Ed said a little too loudly. Winry put a finger on his lips. He was about to shrug it off when Al shifted in his bed. Both of them tensed as they watched him get comfortable again and sigh in his sleep.

Winry's hand dropped from Ed's face as they both relaxed. "You should probably go back to your room," said Ed. "We don't want to wake him up."

"As long as you go back to sleep, too," she told him.

"Yeah, sure."

His tone didn't exactly convince her. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and sat up before turning back to him. He had shifted to his side, facing away from her. She reached for his hair and ran her fingers through it.

He always tensed when she did it, but the way he leaned into her touch as she continued convinced her he really liked it. After all, he was always touching her head - and Al's, now that he could reach it. She supposed he liked being shown affection the same way.

"You don't have to brave all the time," she murmured. "Especially not anymore. You're allowed to have bad dreams too, Ed."

He didn't answer, but she was sure her guess as to what had woken him up was right. "You don't have to tell me everything," she said, "but if something's bothering you, I want to help. I always have."

Still he said nothing. Winry was about to get up and leave before he finally spoke. "It's nothing new," he mumbled. "I've been dreaming about the same stuff for years, more or less. I never really talked with Al about it either."

"You just let him watch you toss and turn and worry about you?"

"Yeah."

"That's not very nice, Ed."

He turned to face her. "And I suppose reliving all the crap we went through is?"

"If it helps, yes."

"It doesn't," said Ed. "I don't like talking about it."

"Well you can't just shut it all out. You can't suppress your emotions that way. It may have worked for awhile, when you were always on the move and had something to distract you. But now that you're home, it's all catching up to you. I can tell how restless you are. You try to distract yourself with a book, with helping Al, with chores . . . with me. It's like something's out to get you if you stay still too long. And half the time you're kissing me is when you're trying to escape from it. I don't like being used that way, Ed."

Ed pinked as he sat back up. "I kiss you because I want to, Winry."

"And if you keep yourself occupied with me then you won't have time to face your demons."

"And what's wrong with that? I'd rather focus on the good things in my life. I'd rather be with you than with the dead. I don't want to think about the past. I'd rather look to the future."

How could he blush when talking about kissing her but imply that she was his future with a straight face? "I won't be enough to distract you forever," she said. "What happens then? Will you let your emotions catch up to you? Or will you run out on me?"

She supposed she could have said that better. But if comparing him to his father dredged up some of the emotion she wanted to discuss, it would be worth it.

"I could never do that," he said.

"You could," she told him. "If you decide that facing your demons is too painful. If adding to the burden is easier than sorting it out. You're pretty good at handling physical pain, but the other kind? You've always run from it."

He wrapped his arms around his legs to hide their tremble. "That's what he said. My dad. When I met him here. He said I burned down the house because I was ashamed of what I'd done. I was furious at him then. He'd been gone for ten goddamn years and he thought he knew me?"

"He didn't see the inside of your pocket watch, Ed."

He shook his head at her. "But now I realize he was doing the same thing. He'd spent four and a half centuries trying to forget that damn homunculus. And Al and I - he was scared of watching us grow old and die just like everyone else. And shit, sometimes it just makes me angrier. That he had good reasons for what he did. Because I still want to hate him, and I can't. Or I'd have to hate myself, too. Not that I . . . never mind."

"You don't still hate yourself for putting Al in that body, do you?" she asked.

". . . Not so much. But I could've traded my portal a long time ago. The night we tried to bring Mom back, even. He never had to be in that body at all. The gatekeeper called me a fool when I gave him my arm. Now I know why."

"You're not a fool, Ed. Nobody's ever done what you did before. You shouldn't blame yourself for taking a few years to figure it out."

"A few years and a lot of heartache."

She patted his arm. "You grew, Ed. On the inside."

"I grew on the outside, too," he protested.

She grinned. "I know. But you know what?"

"What?"

"I realized I was in love with you before you grew taller than me."

The flush on his face made her grin wider. "Really?" he asked.

She nodded as she leaned over to kiss him. It was sweet and familiar, and their hands tangled in each other's hair as the kiss deepened. When their mouths broke, he continued kissing her face and neck.

"Thanks," she murmured, her head thrown back to allow him better access. "For talking to me." He grunted in response.

It was a start. Later they'd sort out everything else. It was a conversation Al needed to be a part of, too, to support Ed and to work out his own troubles. They still had things to discuss, but for tonight, Winry would be satisfied with her foot in the door.

She'd meant to go back to her own bed before she fell asleep. Ed had meant to make her. But good intentions weren't enough to transport Winry down the hall. So the next morning, they awoke to the sound of a camera flash.

"Oh that's gorgeous," said Al. "I'm going to make a thousand copies and hand them out with your wedding announcement."

"You little shit!" yelled Ed as he scrambled after him. He failed to untangle himself from the sheets, though, and so fell to the floor with Winry on top of him. It would have been a lot less awkward were it not for an unfortunate case of morning wood.

She pretended not to notice as she extricated them from the sheets, and they sprang apart as soon as they were free. She was about to run to her room when she noticed another unfortunate situation.

"Ed?"

He turned his brilliant red face back towards her. "What?" he asked.

"Your foot," she said, pointing to his left leg. "The sheet's caught in it."

"Damn it," he said as he lifted his foot onto his lap.

She realized too late that he was about to yank the sheet out. "Ed, don't, you'll -" His hand came up full of fabric strips. "- rip it . . ."

"Um, sorry," he said, his face still crimson. "We could have Al transmute it back together."

"Not until I make sure you haven't damaged anything, idiot!"

"What am I transmuting?" Al stuck his head in the door. "Gee, Ed. What did that poor sheet ever do to you?"

Ed curled his knees to his chest, hiding his erection and grumbling about fabric death traps.

"Leave it to Ed to find a way to break his automail in his sleep," groaned Winry.

"It's not broken," Ed protested.

"I'll be the judge of that!"

"Don't know why you're complaining, Brother. At least you actually need maintenance this time - as opposed to all the other times you two have made out in the workshop . . ."

Ed grabbed his pillow off the bed and threw it at Al, who dodged it with a snigger. "Have fun, you guys," he said as he ran down the hall. "But not too much fun!"

"I'm going to kill him," Ed said as he got off the floor.

"No, you're not," said Winry. "You're going to stay off that foot as much as possible so you don't work any more threads into the gears. Now get your butt into the workshop. I'll be there in a second." She opened the door, but turned over her shoulder before she stepped outside. "Who's all hot and bothered over a PF spring now?" she said with a smirk.

She didn't stick around for his reaction, but she was pretty sure that strangled choking sound was Ed's. He couldn't even get her back.

It was completely worth it.