"You stupid idiot! You smashed the pistons to hell!"

"Chill out, machine freak! It's not like I meant to!"

"You haven't been oiling it! You keep transmuting it over and over! If you'd let me put a knife in it you wouldn't have to keep fusing all these wires together-"

"NO WEAPONS! I told you that already!"

"Is oil a weapon?! Why can't you do something THAT simple you idiot?!"

"Who are YOU calling an idiot, idiot?!"

"You don't even CARE! You just come back here and expect me to fix it! Just like that! And then you just LEAVE again!"

"...damn it Winry I'm SORRY! How many times do I have to say it?! I'm sorry I broke your automail!"

"You don't even understand. Just go. I'll fix it."

This...this was unexpected. She just got so...deflated. He was expecting a crack from that damned wrench. Instead she just looks down and away and dismissed him. So coldly...no, this wasn't right. Not at all.
Ed hopped off the table and left his detached arm with the blonde to fix. Was she sniffling? Nah...its just his imagination. Winry didn't cry...especially over an idiot like him. He'd upset her and didn't even know what he did...as usual.

Closing the door behind him, the young man tried to figure out why this spat was so different from the rest. She was mad about him smashing her precious automail up, but he had no other choice! Ed's journey was a dangerous one...he was glad to have her automail with him, helping him fight, helping him move forward. She helped him more then she knew...pushed him forward. Did she know how vital she was?

Sometimes Ed wondered if HE knew how precious she was to him.

As Ed climbed off the table and ascended the stairs to the kitchen, Winry sniffed and looked at her friend's arm. Scratched, marred, crushed in some places...steel scorched black stretching from his wrist to his elbow, two fingers with broken hinges.
He was always throwing himself into these situations, trashing his automail...she knew he wasn't just uncaring towards his limbs, he was just in a tough situation when he had received this inch deep slash on his forearm. This obvious set of teeth marks on the bicep.
He was always in DANGER that IDIOT. throwing himself into these situations, with no regard for himself.
"Or me." She whispered, then suddenly blushed madly.
"Why should he? I'm just his damn mechanic. And why do I care if he cares?! Stupid pint-sized alchemy freak..." She grumbled as she threw what was left of her most genius technological marvel yet into the scrap bin by the door.

Rubbing irritatedly at her eye, she stalked across the small workshop, grabbing various bits of metal and tools she'd need to make him a prosthesis from scratch. It'd take three or four days, but he'd have to deal. The idiot.

Ed retreated to the room he shared with Al, cursing under his breath about how he hadn't even been given a spare arm to wear in the meantime. He LOATHED being crippled and handicapped like this. Flopping himself on the bed, he faced the wall and stared moodily, a dark expression clouding his young face.

"Brother?" Came a tinny voice from across the room, seated on a chair.
Ed jumped, shouting out in surprise, "Al?! Why didn't you warn me you were in here?!" He demanded indignantly.
"Why, Brother? It's not like you brought Winry in here with you...what privacy do you need?" The shell asked slyly. If Al COULD smile, his face would be twisted into a sardonic smile.
Blushing, Ed turned back to face the wall in sullen silence, refusing to bicker with his brother. It wasn't the time to berate him for his teasing of Ed's confused feelings for their oldest friend...not when he grappled with them so heavily himself.
"And grappling is so fucking hard with one arm", he thought wryly to himself.

Sensing his discomfort, the ever perceptive Al spoke up.

"Something happened down there, huh Brother? With Winry? Did she see you transmuted that paperweight to replace your finger?" He asked, a small hint of laughter in his voice.

"Awwww, FUCK! She didn't even see that yet! Maybe she won't notice..."

"Brother, you didn't even do a GOOD JOB transmuting it. The tip of it still has Mustang's seal on it...besides, it's her AUTOMAIL. She notices when you haven't polished it in a day."
Ed snorted derisively, recalling how mad Colonel Hothead was when Ed clapped his hands together and transmuted the little pewter statuette into a middle finger. Maybe he wouldn't have done it if Mustang hadn't BURNED his to cinders. And maybe Ed shouldn't have presented said finger so proudly to his commanding officer in response to a lecture on filling out field reports correctly.

"It wasn't funny Brother! Hughes gave him that when he was promoted." Al scolded.

Rolling over on his back, Ed sighed. He had been in a bad mood THAT day, too. For the same reason. He didn't know what to do about Winry. He wasn't GOOD with these things. Alchemy, chemical bonds, the periodic table of elements...these were things he knew. Romance, attraction, girls...love? He might as well be a toddler for as much as he knew.

"Brother, just TALK to her about it. Be yourself...you know her better then anyone." Al said helpfully. Always so level-headed, damn him.

"No! I said no already! She's the best looking girl in the whole damn town and I'm just her alchemy freak friend who keeps leaving her..." He turned back towards the wall as his face twisted into a grimace, realizing he had just gushed out his innermost feelings. Robert, John, Pitt, Ricky...she had options. She could be with any and all of them-that thought twisting his stomach-but she wasn't. Too busy tinkering with metal limbs and waiting on her friends. She must be just as inexperienced as he was...but maybe she wasn't? Maybe she had explored her feelings for the other boys in town. Fuck that made his stomach roil.

"Go talk to her! I'm tired of you being moody and grumpy about this! Since when do you THINK before you do things?" The suit of armor practically shouted, shocking Ed. Al only got like this when Ed had his head up his ass...but he was WRONG this time.

"What would be the point, Al? What happens when I tell her how I feel and she's on a different page? Things would never be the same. They'd always be awkward. I don't want to lose one of the only things I have left!" Ed snapped, still staring a hole through the wall. He heard the moans and groans of Al's armor as he shifted uncomfortably. They had had this conversation before. Ten times before, a hundred times before.

"Things wouldn't be weird Brother. You know that just as well as I do. Winry isn't the type to let that happen. Besides, what happens if she feels the same way?" Al pushed.

"Then maybe we start dating. Maybe it even GOES somewhere. And then? Then one of our hundreds of enemies finds out about her and she's in danger. I can't risk that. It isn't...it wouldn't be worth endangering her." His sat words were spoken with sadness and regret. Deep down he knew it'd be worth it to him...but he couldn't endanger Winry. She was too important.

"Fine. Be a coward." Al spat in an uncharacteristically bitter way, standing and stomping out.

"...I'm not a coward." Ed rolled over and laid on his back, staring at the rafters above his bed.

"Who the hell am I kidding? I'm the BIGGEST coward." Bitterly, he closed his eyes. He jumps into fights, way outmatched and outgunned, fighting for his little brother. But when it came to telling Winry she made him want to crush her into a hug and hide under the porch at the same time. When it came to something that might actually benefit him? Fucking COWARD. Maybe he didn't need to be happy. Happy meant comfortable, comfortable meant content, content meant he didn't want to move forward anymore. They needed their bodies back, he needed to stay focused. Al was counting on him, damn it!
But maybe Winry could help? Some nights everything was just too damn much. Ed had gotten good at hiding how broken down he was feeling, how tired and exhausted he was. Sleep wasn't enough anymore...something was just rattling around inside him. Shit, she always fixed his limbs, maybe this was no different...

A part of him shuddered at the thought of telling her what she truly meant to him...of her laying in his arms, being able to run his hands rough her soft hair, state into her eyes. Kissing her lips, taking in her soft, feminine curves unabashedly. Those curves just freaking popped up one summer...much to Ed's interest...

Noooooo. Stay away from THOSE thoughts. He didn't need to think about her hips in that jumpsuit, that teeny black tube top...
He grinned sheepishly as he indulged the thoughts before making his decision: he'd talk to her. Maybe after a cold shower...

Winry say at her workbench, a few hours after her and Ed's argument. Normally she forgave him pretty fast, because, well...it was Ed. Her Ed. Or...something. She didn't quite know what he was to her, but he was important enough to push her other projects aside in order to fix his automail. Without it he was helpless...she liked being able to give him what he needed to keep moving forward.
But the forgiveness wasn't quite coming this time...her feelings after the fight were tinged not with anger, but sadness. Not frustration, but longing. Not the unfamiliar, newfound feeling of fluttering in her stomach at his roguish grin, but...disappointment.

Things were changing. He didn't care like she did...she knew he and her were still friends, would ALWAYS be friends...but nothing more. She was inexperienced in matters of the heart, but she knew she wanted to learn with him. He was too busy to think of his childhood playmate in a way that might suggest more then mere platonic feelings. Who has time to think of moonlit walks and cuddling when you were trying to save your brother's soul and finding a way around the basic laws of nature?

She sighed. "That isn't how he sees me...I'm his friend, his mechanic...just a sister." She thought, grimacing. The sister thing made her occasional dreams of a sweaty Ed after a workout and a scantily clad Winry even more unwholesome...she blinked away the encroaching dirty thoughts and focused on her melancholy.

Suddenly, a knock at the door.
"Hey, Win...can I come in?" Came Ed's voice from the other side of the basement, startling Winry away from a daydream revolving around a pair of tight black leather pants thrown casually on the ground.
"Y-yeah?" She asked, hoping her blush would lessen, or at least be mistaken for the heat from the torch she was handling.

"...can I come in?" He queried, sounding odd himself.

"Since when do you ask if you can come in?" Winry asked amused.

He opened the door, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. He began to say something, when Winry looked back down at her workbench. She was wearing that damn jumpsuit from his sordid thoughts earlier.
"Come on, Ed. Focus!" He urged himself.
Gritting his teeth, he asked "hey, Winry. What's up?"

"Fixing your damn automail, short stuff. What the hell bit you?!"
"Number ONE I'm not SHORT! I'm COMPACT! Number TWO it was a chimera!" Damn. She didn't need to know he was being attacked by rogue abominations. Her shoulder stiffened at the mention of the chimera, but said nothing otherwise. He went from the doorway to the workbench, pulling up a stool and sitting it next to hers. She was tinkering with his arm, taking it apart, salvaging what she could. He knew she'd have to re-make it, even with his limited automail knowledge.
"So, about earlier..." He began before trailing off.

"What about it." She replied flatly, still not looking at him.
God DAMN HER. he bit back an angry comment about her not paying attention before swallowing it and continuing.

"I know why you're mad at my automail being trashed."

"Oh?" She replied. Still. No eye contact. But she stopped tinkering...listening, maybe?

"Yeah. You work so hard on it, and I just let it get destroyed. I...uhhh...never, like...you know...thank you for...uhhhm...helping me so much." He replied, stuttering. God he was bad at this.

"No, idiot." She replied, continuing working an intact bundle of wires from his old forearm.

"...no?" He asked incredulously. What fuckin nerve she had! He came down here trying to bear his heart! But she didn't know that, of course.

"I said, 'no, idiot'." She replied in a matter-of-fact tone. She smirked, knowing she was absolutely enraging him. Nobody could piss him off like she could. But he was holding his temper shockingly well...something was up.

"No. I'm not mad because you keep breaking it. Try again, bean sprout."

He couldn't take it anymore.

"BEAN?! Who're you calling a bean you unattractive grease monkey?!" He shouted.

"You weren't calling me a grease monkey last time I fixed what you did to my automail! And THAT time you were missing half the internal components! How the hell do you lose three feet of wire anyways?!" She stood up, shouting back at him.

"None of your damn business is how, automail freak!" With each word his face got closer to hers, until they were nose to nose and shouting.

"It IS my business you pint-sized bookworm!"

"Oily shrew!"

"Stubborn little shit!"

"Crazy bitch!"

Things were escalating as they always did. Both of them LOVED fighting this way, it was how they let off steam, expressing their passion and love towards each other in the only way the knew how.

"Ass-backwards tin man!"

"Ugly nag!"

*WHAM!*
The wrench. Always the damn wrench. Blinking to clear the stars from his eyes, Ed propped himself up on his elbows. She had really nailed him this time, the bump already formed and his head bleeding a bit.

"Shit..." He grumbled, prodding tenderly at the lump.

"You deserved it." She declared defiantly, before sitting back down at her bench, pretending to ignore him.

"Yeah...yeah I did." He admitted, startling her. He never just admitted guilt.

"How hard did I hit you? You NEVER give up!" She grinned.

"Heh, I dont, do I?" He chuckled. "It's a special occasion, though..." He added, quietly to himself.

"So, why are you now?" She questioned, the grin gone. She was slightly worried...he was supposed to rant about her being a psychotic sadist.

"Well...let me start over. I don't thank you enough for what you do for me. You fix me up even though I don't take care of it like I promise...I really appreciate what you do for Al and Me, Win." He said gently.

She bit her lip and looked down, away from him back towards her work.

He grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to look at him, not even aware of the intimate contact. Jerking her head up and towards him, he looked at her.

Her fine, petite nose.
Her cheek smudged with grease.
A few unruly strands of cornsilk blonde hair falling across her huge, blue eyes. God, those eyes.
They were watery.

Instantly, all the fire in Ed's eyes was gone, replaced with regret at what he'd done to to make her cry. Again.

Stupid.
Stupid.
STUPID.

"Winry I-"

"SHUT UP! You IDIOT! You don't UNDRSTAND! You LEAVE! You go and almost get yourself killed! You don't care what might happen to Al or me if you were gone! I don't hear from you until you get back here and you just need your goddamn limbs fixed! You get them fixed and you LEAVE! And do it AGAIN! Damn it Ed I'm so tired of this..." She stared at him, shaking. Unshed tears in the corners of her eyes.. Angry, forceful tears. She was so mad at him.

But he was mad, too.

"Well you know WHAT?" He asked, quietly, almost whispering.
"Al and I leave here. We want to stay so bad, we miss it here. We miss HOME. but *I* fucked up and *I* have to fix it. Believe me, Winry...I'm so damn tired of this too."
She started to say something else, but he cut her off.

"You say I don't CARE? I care more then you know! I have chimera bites and burns and smashed wires because I am doing whatever I can to come back here on the right terms. To not be here for a day or two while you fix my mistakes." He gestured at the mangled automail.
"I haven't told Al this, because it would crush him. But I'm wearing down...you see how bad that arm is? It's so much worse inside. I feel so tired and worn down...I need help...I...I need you." He hung his head, suddenly exhausted.

"...me?" She asked, incredulously.

"Yeah. You. You've always been home for me...and you always fix my limbs, right?"

"...I don't know if I can fix that, Ed."

"Oh." He thought.
"...well, I'll see you at dinner!" He said, his voice thick with heavy cheeriness as he stood to leave. Suddenly, she reached out and grasped his hand, standing with him.

"But...I'd like to try. I do care about you, Ed. I have for a while. I'll do what I can...just don't expect any miracles, alchemy geek!" She smiled happily, gripping his hand.

"Winry..." His face broke into a small, tentative smile.

"Yes?" She asked.

"I..." The rest of the sentence dissolved into mumbles, incomprehensible to either of them.

"What was that? Gonna hafta speak up there Ed. Or I can let my wrench ask you?" She threatened playfully, tapping it against his forehead.

"I think I love you!" He said quickly, as if afraid the words would burn his lips.

"You...whaaaa?!" She shouted back at him.

"Iiiii...love you?" He asked tentatively.

Her eyes narrowed.
"Are you ASKING me?"

"No, you shrew! I'm telling you! I love yo-"

Instantly, her lips smashed against his, her hands flying to the back of his neck. He was surprised, his lips tight and hard, but they melded into hers, so soft and smooth. She smelled of citrus and grease and sweat, and he loved it.

Something awakened in his chest, a growling, primitive monster. He opened his mouth a bit, nipped at her bottom lip, tangling his hand in her hair, the other traveling to the small of her back.

She moaned into his mouth as his teeth kneaded her soft lip. Her nails dug into his muscled neck, and one hand cupped his face.

Suddenly, she broke the kiss, a gleam in her eye, breathless.
"Ask me to wait for you. Please." She was almost begging. This was an odd side to her.

"Winry...please...wait for me. I'll be back...I'll be back for you!" He gushed, overcome with emotion, his walls down and shell gone. He kissed her cheek, her earlobe, her neck. He wiped the grease from her cheekbone as he bit down on the soft flesh of her neck.
"I love you...please."

Pulling his face from her neck (begrudgingly) her azure eyes locked with his brassy ones.
"Always. As long as you want me to, Edward. I love you too!"

He kissed her softly on the forehead, overjoyed at her confessions and promises.

They sat in the workshop for a while, talking, kissing, making up for lost time. Ed started feeling the rattling in his chest ease, whatever made the noise was strapped down by Winry's tender words and her soft, tinkling laugh.

Suddenly, Winry looked down at the arm laying on the table. She picked it up, turned it around in her hands, and narrowed her eyes on a digit.

"Ed. Why the fuck is your middle finger made of pewter?" She hissed between her teeth.