Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, settings or constructs from Fullmetal Alchemist. I'm simply having a little bit of fun with their toys.

Foreword: Let it be known that I haven't watched the entirety of either FMA series. I know vaguely what happens, but it's been years since I've watched. I did, however, always find Ed and Winry to be such a cute couple. And I know Ed's a sour-puss, but I think he's got an even softer side to him than Al… even if he won't admit it. He's also a definite creature of habit. This takes place… some time. His arm is still automail, so it's not after the series, but I have no scope to place it anywhere on the timeline. Use your imagination or consider it AU. Does it really matter?


She was sprawled out lazily across the grass in front of her Grandmother's house in Resembool, patiently scratching behind the ear of an ecstatic Den. He growled contentedly, as Winry's sapphire eyes scanned the horizon for the mail carrier. Seeing nothing, she shrugged and smiled widely as her eye caught sight of the pieces of paper in her lap.

There were four identical pieces of paper, no larger than her hand. The golden haired girl smiled fondly after the cards. She was seventeen, as of today. The first card had come when she had turned thirteen, a pleasant surprise for the bubbly girl, accompanied by a bouquet of violets and daisies. She remembered blushing furiously then, as she had every year after. Year after year, the card came with the flowers precisely on her birthday, becoming an informal tradition for her. It may have been a secret tradition, known only to her, but it was one that the girl looked forward to 364 days of the year.

The cards were never signed, and the identity of the sender was still a mystery. She found it all so terribly romantic, daydreaming of her secret admirer's identity; dreaming of who had penned such beautiful and poetic words.

"Violets are for modesty, for the most beautiful things in life are often the simplest and most understated. Daisies are for joy; the way your smile is like the joy of sunshine; the very flowers opening their petals to greet your arrival. I'm no daisy, but one day, I long to bask in your light."

Winry's eyes wrenched shut as she clutched the letter to her chest and felt her heart flutter, like the innumerable times that it had when she read those words aloud. She could feel her face flushing a deep shade of red, so lost in her sappy thoughts that she hadn't heard the mailman walk up to the mailbox.

"Hi Winry! Happy Birthday!" he said. He was a kindly older man, face worn and weathered from smiles and laughter. Though advancing in age, the silver haired man was still spry and lanky beneath his uniform.

"Thank you, Mr. Logan!" she beamed with the intensity of the sun as she began to twirl a finger through her honey colored locks. "Is there any mail for me today?"

"Lemme check!" He set his mail sack down, and rummaged through it for a few moments, confusion slowly spreading across his face. "That's… That's odd! I don't seem to have anything…" He felt sweat dripping down his brow, earnestly saying, "But I always have something for you on your birthday!"

"I-It's okay, Mr. Logan..." Winry was biting back her tears, albeit poorly, as the radiant smile fell to pieces from her lips and pools formed in her eyes. Without a word, she clutched the cards in her fist and ran back towards the house, half blinded by tears.

Cursing herself for being so silly, she wiped furiously at her eyes with the back of her sleeve. She inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly, trying to dam the intense anger that she felt flooding inside her. "I don't even know why I'm so stupid. I don't even know who was sending the flowers." Lower lip quivering, she barreled through the front door to Pinako's, dejectedly muttering, "Stupid Winry. Stupid flowers. Stupid goddamn birthday." She jerked to a halt, eyes centering on a person standing in her kitchen, chewing carelessly.

Edward Elric stood absently nibbling at a sandwich, in front of the Rockbell's refrigerator, glancing at their calendar with a cocky smirk. He tossed a cursory gaze over his shoulder at Winry, who was wiping her eyes and staring intently at the floor, face flushed with anger. "Hey," he waved lazily.

"What are you doing here, Ed?" the mechanic snarled, stomping into the kitchen.

He shrugged and pointed to his automail arm, stuffing the rest of his sandwich into his mouth. "I need a tune up. This contraption is actin' funny. Nothing's really wrong, but it feels weird."

"Of course," Winry scoffed, "You didn't even call. What did you break this time?!"

"I-I didn't!" He ducked as a wrench went sailing towards him, and clattered loudly to the floor. "I swear! I just need a tune up!" He heaved a sigh and grumbled under his breath, "What's got your panties in a knot?"

Winry shot him a venomous look at Ed and stomped towards her workshop, "For the sake of our friendship, I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that, Edward Elric. I am in no mood for your stupidity. Now bring me my wrench, and get your tiny ass in here." As he bent down to retrieve it, muttering foul curses about his height, the girl felt her lip tremble once again. She stomped into her workshop, slamming the door in the young alchemist's face before he could enter. "Stupid Edward. He didn't even remember it was my birthday, and it was written right there on the calendar in front of him! Stupid violets. Stupid daisies."

As the door opened and Ed stepped in, his face painted with a mixture of contrition, cockiness and annoyance, the gearhead sniffled one final time, and dried her reddened eyes, steeling her resolve. "Whatever. Today was already in pieces anyway. Just… Just get your shirt off."

(-=-=-=-=-)

"Someone has been tampering with your automail," Winry stated flatly, setting down her screwdriver and shrugging off the top half of her jumpsuit. "First you just show up unannounced, demanding service with absolutely no regard to my plans," her cheeks flushed hotly, "And now you're desecrating my pride and joy by getting it serviced by some cut-rate engineer?! What am I going to do with you, Edward?!" She shoved the alchemist hard, with both palms on his chest.

Ed landed on his ass with a hard thump on the girl's workbench. "H-Hey! Nobody's been taking care of my automail, Winry!" He cast an incredulous look at her, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. She could go from zero to sixty in the blink of an eye.

"Edward Elric, you're such a jerk!" Her cheeks fell and tears welled up as she rapped Ed across the side of the skull with one of her tools. "You haven't even been keeping up with standard maintenance?! You're unbelievable!" Tears dripped down her face openly, sapphire eyes glimmering and watery as she choked back her tears. "Why don't you just fix your damn arm yourself!" Winry slammed her wrench down on the work bench, and huffed, throwing her arms across her chest and turning away from the young alchemist.

Ed bit back a retort, and his shoulders sagged. "Look… Winry…" He slowly placed his good hand upon her shoulder, mentally flinching as she did physically. "I was telling you the truth… You're the only mechanic good enough for my automail. You know that. I'm sorry for being such a jerk." She leaned back against his palm and hung her head low.

"Fine," she said glumly, pushing his hand off of her shoulder. "I'll fix your stupid arm."

"I told you, Winry. I only need a tune up." His face split into a wide grin, "Besides, the faster you get this finished, the faster I can give you your birthday present!"

"Idiot." Winry laughed half-heartedly, the wisps of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She worked in silence, scrutinizing the faceplate of Ed's metal arm, clucking with her tongue at the mangled bolts holding it onto the rest of the piece. "Geez, Ed, what did you do to this thing!" she said crossly, removing bolt after bolt, loosening the faceplate from the chassis of the arm. She jerked his shoulder roughly, half pulling, half dragging the elder Elric closer to her.

Again feeling his ire crop up, he cocked an eyebrow, watching her undo the last bolt. "Y'know, woman, it's not my fault that you're pissed off that your big, tall secret admirer didn't send you flowers for your birthday this year."

The faceplate slid to the ground with a thud. Snarling, Winry's eyes tore through the empty space between them, resting viciously upon Ed's own. "Why you fu-"

"Did you ever think that someday, the guy might actually like to deliver the damn things himself?" Ed said sharply, his voice slicing through the girl's own. There, beneath the faceplate of his mechanical arm, an assortment of violets and daisies peeked out at Winry, almost sparkling magically beneath the bright lights above her work bench.

Again, Winry was crying, tears flowing heavily down her face, smudging the motor oil that always somehow found its way to her cheeks. Tearily, she threw her arms around the young man, sobbing into his chest.

"Violets are for modesty, for the most beautiful things in life are often the simplest and most understated." Winry's crying seemed to redouble as heaving sobs blubbered out, face pressed fiercely into the crook of Edward's neck. "Daisies are for joy; the way your smile is like the joy of sunshine; the very flowers opening their petals to greet your arrival."

Winry pulled back, a wobbly, watery smile on her face, looking as though she could resume crying at any time. Brushing the tears from her eyes, Ed tucked a violet and a daisy behind her ear as he smoothed her hair down for her.

"I'm no daisy, but one day, I long to bask in your light."

She pressed a teary but chaste kiss to his lips, and whispered, "You didn't even need a tune up, did you?" Winry pulled Ed close and resumed crying as she felt his strong arms encircle her.

"The tune up wasn't for my automail, Winry."


Author's Notes: I know it was really corny. Pretty predictable as well, I'd guess. I just wanted to dip my toes into the water with Ed and Winry, and I'm totally not prepared to endeavor anything more than a short story. And since there's always so much angst in FMA stories, I figured I wanted to write something sickeningly sweet, just for shits and giggles. And for some reason, I really, really like making Winry cry. Does that make me a bad person? She's just such a sweetheart, and I just think her crying makes for such a powerful plot vehicle. Enough from me. Review, if you feel so inclined.