A/N: The last of my Fullmetal Alchemist ficlets. This doesn't mean that I'll start writing lengthier ones, oh, no. Though I'd like to. So, read this and we'll see how it goes.
Disclaimer: Still not mine. Still.
Waiting
The house had been theirs and the day had been uninterrupted. Winry and Edward had had the home to themselves while Alphonse took Mei to Central for a date and Pinako went over to an old friend's for poker night.
Naturally, they did what any intimate couple at their stage of a relationship would do.
They decided to cook.
The short trip to the town market had turned into an hour long scavenger hunt for a certain spice that Ed said made anything taste like a delicacy. It may have sped things up a bit if he had remembered the name of it, but he swore that it started with an "s" and that Alphonse had used it before, so he definitely wasn't making it up and maybe if his girlfriend had a little more faith in him, he could focus and remember the full name of it.
Ed eventually settled for salt and pepper.
Upon their return, they were both ravenous, and so they decided to cook themselves a feast, determined not to starve the first time they were left to fend on their own.
Attempted to cook would better explain the mess and fire scare, however.
Winry's cooking expertise ended when her apple pies came out of the oven, and Edward was certainly no chef.
So, with their stomachs unsatisfied and the kitchen a war zone, Winry stuck a frozen pizza in the oven and directed Ed to the shower.
It was only after they had stuffed themselves with dessert that Ed began acting strangely.
"Ed? You feeling alright?" Winry asked as she put the plates away.
Ed's gaze at the wall never wavered.
Winry frowned. "Ed?" She repeated.
"Huh?" Ed's eyes refocused as he broke out of whatever trance he had been in. "Oh, oh. Sorry, Win. I'm fine," he mumbled.
"Alright," Winry sighed, knowing Ed would talk about whatever was on his mind when he was good and ready.
She turned back to the sink to fold the dish towel she'd been using, giving Ed enough time to cross the room and drop to one knee in front of her.
His arm was extended, holding out a small box for her to take.
Immediately, she knew what was inside, but gasped when she opened it all the same.
It took every ounce of her willpower to not throw herself into his arms.
Winry thought it was obvious that she would say yes, and that a proposal was practically unnecessary. But judging from Edward's nervous coughing and impatient shifting, he had no idea what her answer would be.
An idea formed in her mind. She knew it would be wrong to toy with Ed the way that she was planning to, but she promised herself that she'd make it up to him later.
It was time that Edward Elric experience the pain of waiting.
Winry would make him wait, just as she had waited for he and Al's safe return countless times, never sure when she'd see them again, or even if she would.
Just as she had sat by the phone for hours, waiting for the call he promised he'd make once they were back from whatever mission they were sent off on. Just as she had waited for the mail every day, and checked for a letter postmarked from a place she'd likely never heard of. Just as she had waited for him to return her earrings to her, all the while wondering if her holes would close up. Just as she had waited for him to show up unexpectedly with a busted arm or broken leg, since that was always just a matter of time. Just as she had waited for him to consider his conscience clean before trying to be something more than his childhood friend and mechanic.
She also justified her cruelty by noticing Edward's lack of a romantic gesture. He hadn't even said a word to her, for goodness' sake. He'd simply thrust the ring at her and looked away.
The seconds ticked by and Winry could see that regret was creeping onto Ed's face.
The boy had no nerve. Man would probably be a more biologically accurate term, but it was difficult to see him as one while he fidgeted, kneeled at her feet, refusing to meet her eyes.
She didn't want to keep him waiting for too long, though. Knowing him, he'd take the silence as a 'no' and run off somewhere, refusing to speak to her for days.
She counted to fifty before speaking a word.
Oh, how she loved to watch him squirm.
She loved it even more when his relieved laugh echoed through the empty house as she wrapped her arms around him and whispered, "yes".
She loved it when he swept her off her feet and spun her in a full circle, arms tight around her.
She loved it when he buried his face in her hair and sighed with happiness and relief.
But she loved it the most when he kissed her and she could still taste her apple pie on his lips.
Revenge was sweet.