Bean
by.
Poisoned Scarlet

Summary: Ever since he walked into the store, he had been plaguing her thoughts constantly! She told herself it was because he had automail. About eighty percent of what she told herself regarding that subject was a lie.
Rating: T, for Ed's mouth.
Genre: Humor/Romance.
Pairing: Ed/Win.
Type:
AU – Alternate Universe!
A/N:
This story isn't going to be continued. I know I can continue it if I want to but it was just some random fluff story to pass time, you know? I find myself wanting to read lighthearted stories like this, so its safe to say maybe someone else does too, and I decided to quench that yearn by posting this up! Hope you all like it!
Story Notes: THIS IS AN AU! That said, it doesn't follow the FMA time-line! I'm just borrowing the characters for a bit ;D

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. I also disclaim ownership to the Coffee Bean, that was just me being lazy and hence not coming up with an original name.


She remembered her first day in the shop.

She had been very nervous, fiddling with her black apron, uncomfortable with the fact that her uniform consisted of a very short skirt hidden behind said apron, a white collard shirt, and some mid-calf black work boots. The shoes were optional but she decided that working boots would complete the assemble.

Her first friend had been a pretty, bubbly, girl by the name of Rose. She had two dark pink streaks framing her face and soft, silky, black hair that made up the rest. She wore those in-style Xerxes sandles that looked so flat they would be able to successfully squash a cockroach along with bangles, rings, and sparkly necklaces. She was the epitome of a girly girl but Winry found out that she was not just all looks and no substance after their third conversation.

She had gotten the hang of working the coffee machine by her second day and by her fourth she had learned how to treat customers and paste up fake smiles. By her fifth she discovered people weren't all friendly and by her sixth she found out people were also pigs. By her seventh day she knew the ropes of the place and recognized a few regulars.

Her second week had been a little disorienting. Instead of working the cash register and handing out the drinks, she had been assigned clean-up duty. This persisted for two more days until Rose switched shifts with her, saying she liked clean-up duty as she like speaking with the clients but Winry had a feeling it was because she looked miserable holding a mop and a rag.

Third week had been smooth sailing and fourth week had been getting close to Rose and discovering she really wasn't all looks and no substance but actually very intelligent and very, very kind. That had also been when they begun to talk outside ofthe cafe house and started to hang out together more and more frequently.

Fifth week was a repeat of fourth week and by the sixth week, Winry felt almost at home in the cafe house.

Until seventh week happened which made all the coming weeks mesh together in blurs of shiny automail and twinkling gold eyes.

"Winry! Have you seen the latest trend in Central? They've got these darling flannel tops that you just have to buy!" Rose bounced excitedly in front of the counter, leaning in as Winry startled awake from her daydream. "Oh, you've already bought one! Shoot, I want one too, now!"

Winry glanced down at her red and black flannel shirt. It was years old and it had once belonged to her mother, who took up a job working as a mechanic during her younger years and frequently used the shirt. Winry would have followed down this path, too, if it hadn't been for the fact that she already worked around machinery and it'd be redundant to take up a job working with more tools and oil.

She wanted something new.

And, apparently, something new included one Rose and a lot of coffee beans.

"I don't think this one counts, Rose. Look, it's all faded out and old!" Winry laughed, just as the entrance door jingled with a visitor. "Look, you can see holes... and is that blood?" Winry perused the spot of rust. "No, no that looks like oil or something."

"Ew, you're right," Rose leaned in, poking the spot with a manicured finger. "Nevermind. I don't want a flannel shirt anymore..."

"Well, that's a first. I can't think of a time where I've changed your mind about clothes," Winry grinned, turning to face the customer. "Hi, welcome to the Coffee Bean! May I take your ord—!" Her breath caught when she saw just who it was.

He was handsome. Very handsome. Hot handsome. His hair was a strange shade of blonde – a blond so light it appeared to glitter like refined gold when the sun hit it – and his eyes were a burnished shade of the exact same color; if not deeper. He was dressed as casually as anyone else, albeit the black skinny jeans, black muscle shirt, black platform boots and black jacket squeezed him into the rocker category.

He held a startling red cloak slung over his shoulder, as his eyes skimmed the menu above her head. It was this, and the fact that she had completed most of her sentence before melting into a puddle of goo, that saved her from utter mortification.

Beside her, Rose quirked a brow.

"Black coffee..." he muttered to himself. His eyes locked with hers and she was pretty sure her cheeks had flamed up red, which added to her already mortified self. "I want one large black coffee and one medium mocha frappuccino with extra whip cream."

"One coffee, one frap with extra cream," she mumbled to herself, making haste to turn away from the boy to hide her flushed face. She was very aware of Rose's poorly concealed giggles and cursed her to the deepest depths as she poured a cup coffee and began on the frappuccino.

She breathed in as she caped the frappuccino, composing herself, and when she turned around she was surprised to find the boy hadn't moved. He was staring at her, too, with his chin resting on his palm and wide, curious, almost child-like, eyes blinking back at her.

Her face threatened to turn scarlet but she controlled it enough to tally up the total.

"That would be six ten," she said, mechanically, careful to keep her distance from the boy. She glanced to the side and saw Rose merrily mopping an isolated corner, catching her eye and giving her a dandy thumbs up matched with a Cheshire grin.

Winry sent her a look and pushed the cups to the boy a little too roughly.

"Crap, where'd I put that dollar?" she heard him mumble. She turned to see him digging in his back pocket, smiling when he found the bill. "Here you go!" He handed it to her, his gloved – she now noticed – fingers bumping with her own.

Instead of blushing like she anticipated she would, she stared. "Do you..." she shook her head, tearing her gaze from his hand. "Nevermind. Thanks."

"No, do I what?" he asked, curiously.

"Umm," she let her eyes stray back to his hand. "Do you happen to have automail, by any chance?"

He looked honestly shocked. "I—uh—yeah, actually." He rose his right hand, the one she had bumped. "My right arm is all automail."

She felt awkwardness drain to awe. "That is so cool!" she squealed, eyes sparkling. He looked surprised, then weirded out, then amused, as she gushed about automail for a brief moment before pleading if she could just touch his arm.

"Uh, sure, but—!"

"YES!" She reached forward and grabbed his arm, ripping off his glove and tossing it to his flesh hand, which caught it easily. She pushed the sleeve back and admired the metal prosthesis, which gleamed in the sunlight filtered through the windows. She critically surveyed his arm, from the hand to the elbow, as his sleeve could go no farther and she felt a little shy to ask him to take off his jacket.

This took a total of three minutes before she realized that he was a customer and most likely on his way?

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she said abruptly, dropping his arm as he took a sip of his coffee casually; as if having a girl drool all over your fake arm was a common occurrence. "You must be busy! I shouldn't have held you back like that! I'm really sorry!"

"It's alright," he dismissed, and it only eased her guilt slightly. "My brother wouldn't mind waiting a few more minutes."

She felt even worse.."Your brother? You shouldn't keep him waiting! Argh, I'm really sorry!" She tried to push him away by making him grab the frappuccino but he teased her by grabbing it with his metal arm, which momentarily distracted her as she gazed at the smooth and perfectly molded shell of metal that encased the inner-workings of the automail.

She heard him snicker and she scowled. "That's dirty," she mumbled, but couldn't resist dragging his arm back under her nose for further inspection. Then she snapped out of it and pushed his arm back, looking very reluctant, and sighed: "You really should be going." She noticed the line behind him suddenly and squeaked: "Oh shit I'm going to get striked."

"Striked?" he pipped, in confusion.

"Striked, as in, I could get fired for messing around," she laughed nervously. The boy smirked, which in turn caused her to redden.

"Thanks for the coffee," the boy waved, as he grabbed the second cup and departed. Winry watched him leave as she took the next order, cheeks still warm, and looked away when he glanced over his shoulder right before exiting the store completely.

It was a wonder she managed to survive the whole day without dying of mortification from Rose's shameless teasing.


Two days later she had clean-up duty.

Winry slugged throughout the whole morning. It was a Tuesday and she was finally on summer vacation and she had practically nothing to do. Her shift began after lunch break, usually, but she had come earlier to kill some time. Her grandmother was handling the shop well and did not need an extra hand as usual; she instead kicked her out for getting in the way, as the shop was particularly empty for a Tuesday.

She had been wiping off a tabletop when the door jingled open.

She ignored the person, brooding to herself at the crap job she hated doing. Rose was still not in and until then she had to put up with washing off tables and moping up messes. She eventually dropped the rag into the bucket and kicked it under the table, sitting down and crossing her arms in blatant rebellion.

If her boss saw her she'd be in so much trouble...but she was feeling a bit frustrated. Ever since that boy had walked into the store and she had discovered about his mechanical arm, he had been plaguing her thoughts constantly!

She told herself it was because he had automail.

About eighty percent of what she told herself regarding that subject was a lie, she'd admit it.

"Shouldn't you be working?" a voice came from above her. "This could get you striked, too, right?"

She snapped her eyes open and brightened considerably when she saw the boy from two days ago, sipping his coffee and keeping one eye on her the entire time. He seemed so tall from her position but that might've been her overactive imagination shaping him to be some tall guy.

Actually, in reality, he looked kinda short...

"It's you!" she squeaked, sitting up-right as he took seat across from her. "W-what are you doing here?"

"Making the company richer?" he answered smartly.

"That wasn't what I meant," she replied dryly, rolling her eyes.

"I know," he smirked, and she scowled, crossing her arms and trying act offended. It failed, for the most part, because her scowl turned into a half-smile.

"To answer your last question," she started, "I could get striked. But I wouldn't really mind; I would have made a point. I hate clean-up duty and Rose's shift isn't in yet so I have to wait..." she leaned her hand against her cheek, lips pursed.

"Life isn't fair. Suck it up, Winry," he deadpanned.

"That was—hey, how do you know my name?" she asked, baffled. He knew her name but she was getting caught in loops trying to figure out his own? She felt cheated.

"The wonder of name tags, huh?" He sniggered when she snapped her head down and fingered the tag that read her name in bold letters.

"That's not fair," she complained. "You know mine but I don't know yours!"

"Let's keep it that way, shall we?" he replied, golden eyes glittering with amusement.

"Then what should I call you?" She was pretty sure this question could be considered flirtatious, as it held an edge of coyness she had only heard in Roses' conversations with boys she met during her shift hours.

"It depends," he shrugged, with the same edge if not a little more hesitant. "What... do you want to call me?"

"Bean?"

He spluttered and shot her a nasty glare, mood ruined. "What did you just call me?"

She grinned. "Bean! Well, you said I could call you anything I want.."

"I didn't say that," he corrected, begrudgingly. "I said what would you call me, you idiot!"

"Fine. I'll just refer to you as the 'boy with the automail arm'," she flatly stated, rolling her eyes at his blank face.

"That's so original."

"Hey, you asked, I answered." She looked over to the cash register, watching her fellow working partner for the day give her a look that spoke volumes. She frowned when he walked into the back and knew exactly what was happening.

Uh oh. "Wait up."

She stood and grabbed the rag from out of the bucket. She dragged the bucket from under the table with her foot fluidly, kicking it to the table beside the one the boy with the automail arm was sitting in, watching her curiously. He looked in the direction she had to previously and understood immediately when a middle-aged man poked his head out from the door and eyed Winry suspiciously.

He glanced back at her, half-grinning when she waved. She returned to wiping off tables and the man shut the door again. The cashier came out a few minutes later, looking disgruntled, and headed back to his station by the counter.

"Nice, very nice," he said, looking over his shoulder to find her giggling into her hand.

"He's always trying to get me fired!" She stopped scrubbing and added: "He's just sore that Rose turned him down for some other guy."

"He doesn't take rejection well?" he asked, amused.

"Nope, and he's been blaming me for some reason. It's not like I told Rose to reject him – I didn't even know she had until she told me about a day later, after he made me lose my balance and I dropped some drinks on the floor." She winced at the memory. "I got about ten dollars deducted from my paycheck for that."

"That was jack-ass move," the boy scowled, looking honestly angry for her. It made her stomach flutter for a moment. He didn't say anything else, as he gazed at the man behind the counter, who gazed right back at him, incensed.

"It's alright. I don't mind it much," she replied, wringing the rag. "It doesn't usually bother me..."

"It should," he murmured, annoyed. "You shouldn't be on the receiving end when it wasn't even your fault to begin with!"

"You tell that to him," she huffed. "Anyway, I got him back."

The boy waited expectantly.

Winry rolled her eyes. "I tweaked the coffee machine a bit." She returned to wiping away tables, a smug grin on her face. "Once he turned it on it never turned off..."

The boy sitting on the table chuckled as she wiped away a few more tables. She was aware that he was behind her as she scrubbed away a stubborn stain set into the table. The half hour was spent with her face burning and mind racing and hoping, pleading, for Rose to come and whisk her away from the awkwardness she felt from having his eyes burn into her back...

"Oh Winry!" a voice sang from the front. "Guess what I bought today!"

Winry glanced at Rose, relief washing through her. "What did you buy?" she asked, stealing at glance at the boy, who took a swing of his coffee.

"Guess!" Rose bounced toward her, shoving a bag under her nose. "Look at it! Look at it! Isn't it so cute? I bought it the instant I laid my eyes on it!" She sighed dreamily.

Winry set her rag down and rubbed her hands on her apron. She took out...a rainbow flannel shirt. Winry laughed, as she held onto the article of clothing. "I thought you weren't going to buy these anymore because of the shirt I wore yesterday?"

"Just because you can't take care of your shirt doesn't mean I can't either!" Rose replied curtly.

"Hey, that shirt has meaning to me!" Winry frowned back. "It might be old and faded but its the last thing I have from my mother!"

Rose's eyes softened a bit. "That's why I don't really mind it although you could use a few new ones." She eyed the white shirt she had one. "I see you're in uniform today?"

"Only because he's watching me like a hawk," Winry motioned to the boy behind the counter, going through his song library in his MP3 player. "But his shift is almost over so I can change into my regular clothes."

"Ew! No!" Rose exclaimed, nose wrinkled. "Sorry, Win, but you've got an awful sense of style."

"Oh, be quiet! I dress simply!" Winry huffed, nose upturned. "My line of job requires it, you know, but I do have nice shirts!"

"That you never wear," Rose added flatly.

"Well, because I'm always working with machinery," Winry stumbled over her words at Rose's skeptical look. "My grandmother owns an automail shop for crying out loud! I'm always around oil and those stains don't wash out. I'd rather not risk it."

"But you're not around machinery now," Rose emphasized, gesturing around her with both arms outstretched. "You're in a cafe, Win, I think you can dress prettily for once."

"Why?" she grumbled. "It's kind of hard – I wasn't really raised like that, you know..." She really wasn't. Her grandmothers view on beautiful was a pair of working pants, a tube-top, and some mechanic gloves.

"Win-ry," Rose whined. "I've known you for so long and you've never even had a boyfriend!"

"I have so!" she shouted defensively.

"He doesn't count," Rose rolled her eyes. "You dumped him the next day because you realized it was such a horrible mistake."

Winry felt her cheeks flame red. She was very, very, very aware that he was sitting a few seats away from Rose and they were speaking rather loudly. She hoped he wasn't paying attention but that was too much to ask for when she caught his shoulders shaking in laughter.

Is he making fun of me? She thought, fuming. That jerk! "It's not like I want one now," she said, firmly. "There's too much automail that has to be fixed for me to spend all my time with some guy!"

"Automail?" Rose ran a hand down her face. "Is that the real only reason you're not dating?"

Winry stayed sheepishly quiet, making Rose groan out loud and shake her head. "The only guy who you've showed an inkling of attraction to was that hot guy from a few days ago!" Rose said, making Winry freeze.

O-oh no!

"I mean, if only he came back then maybe he can distract you from your beloved automail," Rose nodded to herself. "Although...didn't you tell me that—!"

Winry shoved the bag into her hand, cheeks bright red. She pressed a finger to her lips, eyes pleading, and Rose furrowed her brows in confusion. But she caught on enough when she saw Winry's eyes flicker to the side before locking with her own again.

A grin stretched on her face. Soon laughter bubbled in her chest and before she knew it she was busting out in excited laughter while Winry sighed and crossed her arms, pointedly ignoring the guy who was now looking at them with mild frustration, as if he was angry that Rose hadn't finished her sentence..

She saw him suddenly reach into his pocket and pull out his cellphone. He answered it briefly, a scowl fleeting his face, before he sighed and hung up, slipping the phone back into his pocket and standing up. She averted her gaze when he looked at her but once he reached the door, he turned and, catching her eye, waved once before disappearing out the door.

She watched him disappear down the street.

Rose leaned up close to Winry, whispering excitedly: "He's half metal, too, he's perfect for you!"

She spent the entire day with pink cheeks.


The next few days were spent with wound up anticipation. Rose would spend it talking amicably to the customers and she would spend it taking orders or listening to her MP3 player when Rose was immersed in a rather deep conversation about fashion and other entertainment.

But he didn't come again.

She was usually disappointed when her shift ended at five in the evening and she saw nothing of him. The automail arm excuse was beginning to sound lame in her head and although it was a tiny bit hard to admit that maybe she had an interest him to Rose, it was worth it when Rose said she had a gut feeling he felt the same.

"Bye!" Winry waved, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. "Take over my shift tomorrow, okay? I won't be there since I've got some work laid out for me from granny!"

"Okay! Call me afterward!" Rose chirped, smiling.

"Will do!"

Both girls went their separate ways and Winry hurried to the metro station. There were not a lot of people waiting and she managed to catch it just in time, as she only waited a few minutes, before loading the train. The train, however, was full, so she had to stand the rest of the way as the train filled up with more and more people with each stop.

Winry was pushed to the side rather hard and she shot the woman a look, which was overlooked as the girl was digging through her purse for something. When she looked out the window across from her she was surprised to find gold eyes looking back at her in surprise, a boy with equally blonde hair standing beside him and talking on his cellphone animatedly.

She assumed that was his brother.

A smile found its way onto her face as the doors closed.

She didn't look away until the train forced them to.


"Guess wh-at?" Rose's sing song voice came from the speaker. Winry had a small screw driver between her teeth as she tinkered with a foot automail from a female client of hers. The woman was having her own conversation on the phone as Winry fixed up a minor glitch in the rotors.

"What is it?" Winry asked, hastily. "I told you not to call me when I'm busy! Besides, didn't we settle it yesterday? I'd call you not the other way around?"

"But it was just way too important to wait! Oh, my, I'm so existed!" Rose gushed on the other end, making Winry smile despite her annoyance with the Roma girl. "You're never going to believe who walked into the shop and asked for youuu!" She laughed.

"Who?" She had a feeling who it was and she nearly cut a circuit when Rose said: "Edward!"

"Edward?" Winry squawked, picking up the screwdriver she spat out in her surprise. "That's his name? Edward?"

"You didn't even know his name? No offense, Win, but that's the first thing you ask for."

"He refused to tell me," she sighed. "I think he was going to tell me eventually but then you came to show me that shirt, remember?"

"Oh, sorry..."

"It's okay. We sort of stopped talking since I had to wipe-down the tables and all...it was a little embarrassing," she laughed sheepishly, smiling as she screwed in the pieces she had taken off the ankle to inspect the problem. She finished quickly and gave the woman a nod after polishing the mechanical prosthesis with a towel.

"Thank you," the woman mouthed kindly and rotated her ankle, beaming when there was no longer that annoying lock in her foot.

"So, anyway, he walks in, right? I have cashier duty since I took over your shift and he looks around, no doubt looking for youuu, and I say 'she's not here today. She has some extra work to do at her other job'. So, he just nods his head and orders a black coffee but! I wasn't going to let him go that easily!" Winry rolled her eyes, shaking her head as the girl recounted the event. "I totally asked him if he liked you!"

"WHAT?" Winry squeaked, horrified by her friends actions. "Why would you do that? Rose!"

"Relax, relax, I said it was a joke afterward but he had the same reaction as you! You should've seen his face! It became so red I thought I'd have to splash some water on him to cool him down! Hahaha!"

"You're really cruel, Rose," Winry sighed. "Maybe I shouldn't have taken the day off..."

"NO! It was a good thing! I think I managed to convince him to ask you out or something!"

Her cheeks warmed more if that was possible. She had half a heart to thank her friend to the heavens while the other half mourned for her dignity as she would most likely make a fool out of herself. She felt torn and, in turn, only sighed out: "Rose, you're impossible."

"Huh? That's all you have to say to the girl who literally saved your love life?"

"What love life?" she groused.

"Exactly. I wasn't about to let you ruin this one just because of your precious automail work! Oh, no, you WILL have something with this guy! Besides, he's got automail on him, right? Oh, that's right, we talked about that, too, when I asked him about it!"

"His automail?"

"Yep! I totally recommended you, by the way. So don't be too shocked if he decides to drop by for a maintenance check...hehehe."

Her eyes widened in realization and she had the impulsive urge to stick her arms back into her beige jumpsuit. She was only wearing her black tube top and if what Rose was insinuating then he would drop by for a maintenance check? It would be just like her to coerce someone to abide to her commands...

His arm did look like it needed one, she thought, gnawing on her nail as she called her observations on his arm. But there's no way he'd come NOW right? She wearily glanced at the door that would lead to the waiting room. It was empty since no one had walked in as they were asked to by her grandmother to, who was going through the appointment and walk-in's sheet as well as other paperwork in the front. That was the only reason she was handling the clients today.

"I-it's not like he'll come today or anything," she swallowed when she heard Rose's muffled laughter. "Rose, you're gonna' be so sorry tomorrow!" she threatened feebly.

"More like worshiped. Bye, Win, have fun!"

"Rose—!"

The dial tone answered her and she shut the phone, tossing it onto her desk before she cleaned up around her for the next client and heaved herself to her toolbox. She was pretty sure he wasn't going to come since it was already late, six in the evening, and those events had happened long hours ago. He had enough time to waltz over here, he wasn't going to come so late after he wasted the daylight, right?

She heard the door click open as she organized some of her blueprints. "Please take a seat, do not touch anything, and please removing all clothing around your automail. I'll be with you shortly..." she kneeled and pulled out a box, placing her blue prints safely inside and giving one last look before pushing the box back. She wanted to work on them but she didn't have the time. "Okay! What's wrong with you today?" Winry began, chipper, turning only to freeze.

"I can't move my arm up," Edward said flatly, grinning at her the look of utter shock on her face. "Oh, and hi."

"Wh-what are you doing here?" she stammered out, feeling severely self-conscious with her shirt. It was too late to pull on her jumpsuit over herself, though...

"I told you already: I can't move my arm up." She watched him try to raise it over his head only to lock mid-way.

"Hmm...try that again," Winry said, eyes squinted. She tried to focus on his arm, which she now saw was even more magnificent up-close, and not at his bare chest. There were perks to the job and she would eagerly agree this was one of them. "It doesn't happen often but...did you happen to fall or something? Or did someone pull on your arm?"

"Yeah, my brother and I were sparing and he grabbed me by my automail," Ed recalled, thoughtfully. "That was when it began to act up on me."

"That might be it," she smiled. She took a seat and grabbed a few tools, grabbing his arm as she stuck another tool between her teeth. It was a habit she adopted from Pinako although the old woman mostly had her pipe between her own teeth. "Okay, this might feel weird and if you feel pain at any time alert me and I'll stop," she glanced at him and he nodded.

She forced his arm over his head, hearing something snap inside. But the same had allowed the arm to rise up and down freely. Too freely. Winry knew something had broken. "Lie on your back."

"My arm feels weird..." Ed muttered, eying his suddenly loose arm.

"Yeah, I broke it," she grinned.

"You what?"

"Don't worry; I'll fix it. I know exactly what's wrong with you," she said reassuringly. "I just need you to lie down so I could open you up and take out the piece. You'll probably need a replacement...I think I have a few spares somewhere around here."

As he laid down on the gurney, she rummaged through a couple of drawers until she found the piece. She walked back as his eyes strayed up to her and to the piece in her hand. She didn't sit down, as she knew this would only take a few minutes, but merely leaned over and began to dismantle the arm with professional ease; not at all bothered by the way his eyes stared at her as she worked.

She was too immersed in her work to notice his stare, regardless. She had been given a golden opportunity to peek into his arm and see the works of it. She was surprised and awed by what she saw and she had the urge to take it all apart and see how it functioned. Whoever created his automail was obviously skilled and though she wanted to simply analyze every part of his limb she knew she couldn't.

She tried to focus on fixing the gears that had mucked up because of such a strong pull and not the other wonderful pieces that helped the arm move so smoothly. Her hand clumsily searched for her magnifying goggles beside her as her eyes stayed fixed on the error in the automail. She found it, eventually, after pushing away and no doubt shoving some stuff on the floor.

She slipped them on and perused the broken area, using her craftsman hands to fix it up without a single hitch.

Edward, quite frankly, couldn't take his eyes off her.

When he had arrived at the shop, nervousness had taken over. He had half a mind to simply book a flight to his mechanic out by Rush Valley, which was two hours by plane, but then that girls words had come back to him in a rush: you two would make such an adorable couple!

He was sure she meant it in jest but he had actually thought about it for the entirety of the day. When he had caught her at the metro station he had wanted to rush inside the train before the doors closed because she was smiling so brightly. His brother, however, had other ideas in mind and had lugged him to the opposite train so they could visit his girlfriend, Mei, out by east Central.

He didn't regret coming into the shop, however, when he caught her in that. In all honestly, he was glad she was distracted and hadn't noticed him in the beginning. It had saved him from making a jerk out of himself since he openly stared at her.

Her back had been to him but he quickly fixed that by walking to the chair she motioned to absently and leaning to the side, catching sight of her flat stomach and the swell of her breasts.

If his original automail mechanic was this hot then he wouldn't mind coming every three months for the so-called 'maintenance checks'. In fact, as small smile graced her face and she wiped a smudge of black oil across her cheek, he found that instead of lusting after her blessed body parts he found himself staring more at the twinkle in her blue eyes and the smiles that would touch her face everytime she poked around in his arm.

He'd never met a girl who was interested in mechanics. In fact, he knew the majority of girls wouldn't even touch a subject that involved a lot of back-breaking labor and getting down and dirty. He noticed she didn't mind, not even as she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, tainting it with grease.

He mentioned her a few times to his brother, who had yet to stop teasing him about her even though he didn't even know her, and he thought that it was going to be hard to keep his mouth shut when she kept smiling that pretty smile of hers. He wondered how he was going be able to shut up about her once he got home and his brother asked how his maintenance check had gone.

"I'm almost done," she murmured, flickering joyous eyes to him. "I just have to put you back together then your arm should be working just fine...although you gotta' stop man-handling it! Automail isn't something you could treat lightly just because you can't feel pain!" she lectured with a huff.

"Yeah."

"And take better care of it, too! You're missing one screw on the chest plate, you know! That's dangerous!"

"Uh huh."

"I'm serious! If the chest plate loosens even the slightest bit your arm could be ripped off of you! Well, not really, but it could and you should take into consideration that anything could happen!"

"Yep."

"So—are you even listening to me!" She flashed irritated eyes to him. "Edward!"

His eyes widened and he crashed back to reality at the sound of his name. "H-how do you know my name?"

Winry laughed, grinning down at him as she rolled a screw around in her palm. "The wonders of friends, huh?" she shot back, slyly, earning a laugh from him. She was slightly stunned by his laugh. She hadn't seen him laugh; she'd only seen that cool front he slipped on in public.

His laugh was disarming.

She found herself laughing with him as he clenched his fist and sat up, laugh reduced to a smile. "So I take it your friend told you I was coming here?"

"Kind of," Winry murmured. "She...beat around the bush a lot. I thought she was kidding. It is pretty late, after all."

"I don't have much to do in the evening," he shrugged, raising his arm over his head and finding that, indeed, she had fixed the annoying strain and lock he felt on the mechanical joint of his shoulder. "Hey, thanks! I can move it again!"

"You better not come back here with another problem, Edward!" Winry warned, crossing her arms.

"Chill out," Ed rolled his eyes. "I won't break it or anything. I haven't done that since I was fifteen."

"You've broken automail before?" Winry gawked.

"Oh, yeah, loads of times," Ed dismissed. "My old mechanic got sick and tired of seeing me walk into his shop with a torn off arm or even a falling-apart automail."

"Y-you're insane!" Winry shouted, scandalized by the story. "What the hell did you do that trashed your 'mail like that?"

"Oh, I help out in the military as a part-time job, you could say," he laughed sheepishly. "A friend of mine is a Colonel and he likes to drag me into his crap. It gets annoying and its a dangerous job but someone has to do it. I've got the guts and skills so the choice is obvious," he added a bit arrogantly.

"Skills?" Winry repeated skeptically.

"I was offered a State Alchemist title when I was around twelve," he replied smugly, pride swelling at the sight of her surprised face. "My mother refused to let me join, however, so I renounced the title. That doesn't stop Colonel Useless from pulling me out of school to send me off to some top-secret assignment though," he scowled.

"So you were that kid genius everyone was talking about," Winry trailed off.

Ed shrugged. "It's not much of a big deal anymore."

"Still," she murmured. "Wow, Edward, you sure are something, huh?"

"Ed."

"Hmm?"

"Ed. Call me Ed," he smiled, slipping his long-sleeved shirt back on. She watched him slip on his white gloves again and adjust the sleeve on his automail arm.

"Alright...Ed," she said, a small smile on her face. "Try not to wreck this arm, okay? Or else I'll come after you with my wrench," she pointed to the monstrous wrench sitting idly on her desk. "And don't think I wouldn't use it, either, I've smacked around plenty of heads with that thing and I don't mind busting yours open if you break your arm!" she stated a matter-of-factly. "And you should get regular maintenance checks, too, so your arm is always in great shape! And you should get your chest plate checked! I screwed in another bolt but you should seriously see your mechanic so he could check you up thoroughly!"

"You're a nag, you know that?" Ed said after she her lecture.

Winry smacked him upside the head, ignoring his cries of indignation. "Just listen to what I'm telling you! It might save your life one day!" she snapped. "Regular appointments are crucial to automail users."

"Appointments," Ed mumbled thoughtfully. "Do you think you could book me for the maintenance checks then?"

Winry was a little surprised. "Well, uh, I can but what about your mechanic?"

"He's a pain in the butt and he lives too far," Ed replied flatly. "I'd rather come here, anyway. The service is great."

She blushed a little, touched by his words, and said, forgetting about her annoyance: "Sure! I'm guessing an evening appointment would do?"

Edward nodded and walked to the door, grinning out his shoulder: "It's a date then!" and closing the door behind him with a sigh of relief at a job well done.

He would rub it in his brothers face that he, too, could be smooth even though he had blatantly stole this particular tactic from Colonel Bastard himself.

Not that he'd ever tell him or the so-called Colonel Bastard.