One Year, Three Months
The word had come from the military and Winry wondered if Edward would've even bothered telling her that he needed her expertise without someone's interference. She'd packed up her kit and been on the train to Central City the next day, thinking that some things didn't change. It was when she was met at the train by a young man she didn't recognize that Winry realized that sometimes, they did.
She didn't know who'd sent her a driver nor did she question it. The young man cast glances at her in the rear view mirror, his curiosity obviously getting the better of him when he asked, "So, you're the mechanic?"
Winry bit back the reply that wanted to come out, instead managing a polite, "Yes, I am."
"Huh. Not what I expected." His eyes lit up a little, letting her know that he was smiling. "I'm First Lieutenant Storch. I work with Lieutenant Colonel Elric. Well, not under him or anything." Storch shifted in his seat. "Is it…is it true what they say about him? The Lieutenant Colonel, I mean?"
"I don't know, First Lieutenant. I don't live in Central City. I'm not up on all the gossip." Winry managed to make it sound less than cutting.
"You know," Storch's dark eyes reflected in the mirror, holding hers for a few seconds. "That he killed his brother."
Everything went white for a second and Winry thought the roaring sound might be from a locomotive, bearing down on them. When it cleared, she found herself clutching the seatback in front of her, knuckles tight enough that it seemed the bones might break through the skin. The echoes of a thunderous, "Who the hell said that?" rang in her ears and Winry realized that the lieutenant stared at her with widened eyes.
"I…it's just gossip, ma'am," Storch stammered out and Winry slammed her fist onto the seat back, making him jump.
"Don't you ever repeat that again. Ed loved Al, more than anything. He still does. If you said that to his face," Winry shook her head, disgusted, "damn it, that's terrible. Al died in a knife fight he was trying to break up. Ed wasn't even involved in it." Her vision seemed hazed with red. "He did everything he could to save Al. Everything!" Her fist thumped a punctuation to the last word. "Whoever told you that, First Lieutenant, doesn't know Edward Elric at all."
"Y-yes, ma'am," Storch mumbled, hunching into his seat, his fingers rearranging themselves on the steering wheel.
Fuming, Winry threw herself back into her seat, folding her arms and crossing her legs, glaring out the window. Who in the hell would've said such a hurtful thing? Why? She wondered if that was part of the problem. If the military staff actually believed such a thing, it was no wonder Edward was the way he'd been when she last saw him.
Her fury hadn't cooled by the time that Storch slowed the car, easing it to a stop in front of a building. Winry opened the door, stepping out into the street before Storch could even get out of the driver's seat. Taking a deep breath, Winry let the winter air steady her before she actually realized where they were. Slowly, she turned in a circle, glad she'd worn sturdy shoes. Snow piled in dirty drifts along the curb and the buildings were rundown and built almost on top of each other. An apartment building sat in front of the car and Storch gave her a look that seemed almost hostile before schooling it away. "He lives in there," he said, nodding at the rattrap of a place, a little sneer evident on his face that hadn't been there before.
Winry clenched her jaw, wondering what had happened with Edward's military apartment. This place seemed little better than a hovel. The fire escape looked ready to fall off the building at the threat of a high wind, strips of paint curled off the shutters and the door didn't sit right on its hinges. As Winry took the first riser of the stairs, she could see that the concrete was cracked and pitted and again, she was especially pleased that she'd worn sturdy shoes. Anything else might've sent her crashing down. "Where is his room?" she asked, hand on the railing, surprised that it, at least, seemed to be in decent repair.
Storch jerked his chin. "Third floor. Room seven." He started to open the trunk of the automobile but Winry waved him off of it.
"I'm not working here," she told Storch. "We'll be ready in a few minutes." Winry felt his eyes on her as she climbed the rest of the stairs and pushed through the doorway. Inside, the hall felt chill and damp and Winry wrinkled her nose at the faint odor of mildew. She almost wanted to go back out, find a telephone booth and call Edward but knew that wouldn't do any good. The only way he'd listen to her was if she appeared in person. The sound of someone's radio turned too loud to a comedy drifted down the hall beyond the staircase and Winry let her gaze take in the remains of a once lovely building. A faded border looped just under the tin ceiling tiles, gold leaf flaked in the elaborately carved grooves in the banister under Winry's hand. Her mouth turning down, Winry began climbing to the third floor. The stairs were sound, not even creaking, something that made her feel inexplicably sad. She couldn't help but want to put the building to rights again.
The third floor boasted motheaten carpeting in the hall and pinstriped wallpaper with a chair rail of dark wood. Winry counted her way down the corridor, stopping outside room seven. She raised her hand to knock only to hesitate, taking a deep breath. It's Ed, she reminded herself, hating the way her stomach knotted up, and forced her knuckles to rap against the wood.
Someone walked to the door and Winry knew by the sound of the tread that whoever it was, it wasn't Edward, and braced herself as the door opened a slot. Cigarette smoke drifted out the doorway, a brilliant green eye wreathed in auburn curls. "Yeah?"
"I'm here to see Edward." Winry felt pleased that her voice didn't warp.
The eye sharpened, the door opening a little farther to reveal a tall woman, barely dressed in a short robe and underwear. Heat spilled out of the room and into the hall. Pushing a curl off her forehead, the woman tilted her head from one side to the other before taking a drag off her cigarette. "Who wants to see him?"
"I was told his automail needs servicing." Winry managed to keep her fists from clenching.
The woman's expression went from confused to delighted, all in the course of looking Winry from head to toe and back up again. "You're the mechanic, aren't you?" she all but purred. "Of course you are. We weren't expecting you. Come in." She pulled the door open the rest of the way, gesturing with a long arm for Winry to enter the apartment.
Stepping through the doorway, Winry bit back a cough. The room stank of cigarettes and something infinitely sweeter and more cloying. A record player droned to itself on the other side of the small room and a waterspot stained the ceiling in a peculiar shade of yellow. The furniture seemed in keeping with everything else, a tatty sofa and matching chair; a scarred up table set in a little corner kitchen, bookshelves made of bricks and board. The carpet was worn and the curtains a shade of color that reminded Winry singularly of nicotine. A little desk sat near the window, a jacket hanging over the back of it. The only gleam of color came from an afghan tossed over the back of the sofa, one that Winry knew very well, since she had its mate back home.
The woman moved across the room to the record player, turning it off so that the music ended in a slow squeal. She spun around, widening her gorgeous eyes, wicked mischief evident in them. "I'll get Edward," she promised, and disappeared with in a flurry of her robe, going into another room. Winry heard a door open but not close and forced herself not to react to that additional rudeness. There was a mumble and a laugh and voices together then Edward's, "What do you mean, she's here?" erupted and the woman laughed again at the swearing. Winry slowly made her way to the bookshelves, reading the titles for something to do, something to keep her from thinking about what was happening in this apartment.
"Winry?" Edward's voice called and he peered around the corner of the doorway, bare-chested, his hair hanging loose and tangled. His expression was somewhere between embarrassed and angry and Winry thought it looked better on him than the hopeless despair she'd last seen him wearing. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"First Lieutenant Storch brought me but before that, I got a wire from someone saying you needed some automail repairs." Winry folded her arms, nearly growling. "Are you telling me that I came all the way from Rush Valley and you don't need me to fix something?"
"I." Edward hesitated, jerked his gaze away from her as a hand landed on his shoulder and the woman slinked out from behind him. "My leg's a little stiff," he admitted, though his attention was on the other woman, something that could only be classified as growing horror rising on his face. "Josie!"
She chuckled in response. "Go get dressed, Edward." Turning a shade of red that would've matched his old jacket, Edward let out a strangled noise, ducking back behind the wall. The woman laughed, a throaty, rich, suggestive sound, and Winry tried hard to keep from scowling in response. "Edward gets embarrassed so easily," the woman said. "I'm Josephine Wagner. And you, you're the one, huh?"
Winry eyed the other woman as they waited for Edward to get dressed and join them. "Ed's mechanic?" she asked, figuring it was a safe response though, from Josephine's glittering eyes, she wondered if there really was anything safe to say.
Snorting, Josephine lounged back against the wall, letting her lightweight robe gape open to show skin and underwear, a lot of the former and very little of the latter. She took a puff of her cigarette, blowing smoke rings and fixed Winry with a sparkling glare that somehow seemed more malicious than truly angry. "Winry Rockbell. His," Josephine gestured with the tip of her cigarette, making it flare crimson, "savior." The arch way she said the word, the wicked smile playing around her mouth, the way she sucked the cigarette back between her lips, Winry knew that Josephine was toying with her like a cat did a mouse.
"I'm not anyone's savior."
"No, you'd think that, I'm sure." Josephine languidly tugged her robe closed, tying it haphazardly and Winry couldn't help but be thankful that she didn't have to see those rosy bite marks on the other woman's stomach. "But you're his fucking little goddess, did you know that?" The question came out a purr, a velvet glove holding a stiletto, and the wound that Josephine's words left behind only started hurting after the fact.
Ed, Winry thought, rendered nearly speechless, Ed wouldn't – couldn't think of her that way. She frowned as Josephine pushed off the wall, coming closer, reminding Winry of a predator stalking its prey. Cool fingers, nicotine stained, pressed into Winry's cheek and Josephine leaned in close, her tobacco breath brushing over Winry's mouth. "I wonder if you taste as innocent as you look?"
Men carry their weight in their chest and shoulders, women in their hips. Winry turned sharply, blocking with her shoulder and torso, bumping Josephine hard to send her staggering back a few steps. Her fists remained up and tight and Winry faced the woman who laughed like a rolling stream, liquid and bubbly, shaking her head.
"Kitten has claws," Josephine murmured, tossing her hair back. She smoothed a hand over the rumpled curls, settling them into place and her face took on a delighted expression as Edward came into the room, buckling his belt. "Edward. Your mechanic and I were just talking."
He glanced from Josephine to Winry and Winry saw his shoulders surge up and then fall in a sigh. "Could you have at least gotten dressed, Josie?"
She lit another cigarette off the first and offered it to him. Winry couldn't help but feel surprised – Edward didn't smoke – and a little bit of relief warmed her stomach when he waved it off. Josephine caught her reaction somehow, a little tilt to the corner of her mouth. "Don't be shy for Winry's sake, Edward. I'm sure she knows all about your nasty habits."
Edward's face was always too mobile, his eyes too expressive and even years out of childhood, not that he'd had much of one, Winry could still read the shock and anger that dashed over him no matter how quickly he attempted to school it away. "We're going, Josie," was all he said, the tightness of the words showing his strain.
"Oh, you're not going to work on him here?" Josephine dragged on the new cigarette, blowing out the smoke in Winry's direction. She pouted, a glorious, sexy moue, one Winry knew she'd never be able to replicate in her lifetime. "But I wanted to watch."
"No." The word came out sharp and harsh and Winry couldn't help but feel a smug relief at Josephine's obvious dismay when Edward said it. He turned to his lover, touching her shoulder, rubbing his thumb against the silky material of her robe. "I don't want you to see me like that," Edward said in a lowered voice, rough, gentle, "remember?"
Josephine leaned her forehead against his, wrapping her arms around him to pull him closer. "But I want to see all of you," she murmured back and Winry forced herself not to look away, despite the roiling in her stomach when Josephine kissed Edward. She recognized Josephine's need to make her feel uncomfortable and Winry wasn't going to play that game. As if she'd realized, Josephine upped the stakes, nipping lightly at Edward's mouth, caressing his shoulders, one hand sliding slow and sure down his back to cup his backside.
"Hey!" Edward jerked away, frowning, glancing from Josephine to Winry and back again, a flush staining his cheeks. He pulled free of Josephine's grip, muttering something to her that made her laugh, those glittering eyes challenging Winry over Edward's shoulder as he grabbed Josephine's elbow and hustled her out of the room. A door slammed somewhere in the little apartment and Winry did her best to ignore the argument, somewhat surprised that Edward managed to keep his voice low enough that maybe the whole building wouldn't hear him.
Edward returned a few minutes, tugging a jacket on, gloves in his mouth, a thunderous scowl on his face. He gestured with his head to Winry and she preceded him out the door, ignoring him when he slammed it closed behind them. As they walked down the stairs – slowly, due to Edward's leg – Winry couldn't help but study him. The leg wasn't the only problem, she knew, probably the most serious on outward appearances but she'd noticed in the apartment that the fingers of his right hand weren't moving with the speed they should've. Something more to look at, she thought, trying to wash away the thoughts of Edward and Josephine and what they might've been doing in that dank little room on the third floor.
The military car still waited out front, First Lieutenant Storch hastening to open the door when they came through the door. Winry had half expected it to be gone, that they would have to walk to HQ but either Edward's name or, more likely, Mustang's, carried enough weight that the driver wouldn't leave them alone in this neighborhood.
Surprisingly, Edward remembered enough of his manners to hand her into the car first and Winry felt a strange flush of sensation at him cupping her elbow as she climbed inside. It was nothing more than a gentlemanly thing to do but this was Edward, who barely was acquainted with the word, much less the actions of the same. He closed the door and went around to the other side, somehow managing not to skid across the icy street, and climbed in. Storch gave them both an unreadable look in the rear view mirror and Winry scowled back at him, making him avert his eyes. He started the engine and the car rumbled and shook for a second then smoothly pulled away from the curb.
Edward leaned his elbow on the arm rest, staring out of the window, so all Winry could see was his messy ponytail and the gleam of sunlight on his cheekbone. She folded her hands in her lap, looking out the window on her side of the car. "I have a room rented," she said, thinking that her voice matched the brittle cold outside, "and you can take us there." Giving Storch the address, Winry settled back into her seat. She had no doubts the military had mechanics and a place she could use on base but she felt uncomfortable with that. She was used to tinkering on Edward almost anywhere; hospitals and hotels and even out under the stars, with Al holding a flashlight while Edward swore and she complained about him making it impossible to do quality work.
How long ago had that been? Winry couldn't even remember. After Briggs, sometime. Before Al died. She ran her thumb over her finger, feeling the smooth indentation where her engagement ring used to rest. Closing her eyes, Winry wondered when she'd run out of tears. Had it been in the hotel just a few months ago? Had she cried since then?
The sound of the car door opening called her back to the present and Winry shivered at the draft swarming in from outside. Glancing automatically to her left, she caught sight of Edward climbing out of the car, nearly losing his balance. His grip on the door handle kept him from spilling to the ground and Winry heard the muttered curses under his breath. The corners of her mouth tipped up, some things were inevitable; Edward would always break his automail, he would always swear like he'd been raised in a bar, he would always blaze up in her mind's eye, a living flame, even if it seemed like now, he was guttering, about to go out.
Winry shook her head. No. Not Edward. She ignored the little voice that reminded her of the scars she'd seen, of the fight they'd had. She saw Edward pull himself up, meeting her eyes, and Winry felt as if all the air had been sucked out of her lungs.
"Be careful getting out," he muttered, dropping his gaze and slamming the door.
Winry made Storch help carry her tools into the hotel and up to the room. From the expression on his face, he wanted to say something to her about it but Edward's rank kept his tongue in check. For his own part, Edward slumped against the wall of the elevator and Winry couldn't help but remember the last time they'd ridden in one together. She wondered if Edward had any memories of that night and realized she was both afraid to ask and wanted to know. Not that she'd bring it up with Storch around. He was giving them both looks that made her hand itch to slap him and she wondered just what sort of rumors would be floating around the military after today.
Not letting Storch escape as soon as they'd reached her room, Winry had him set out her tools. It gave her a sort of a grim satisfaction to watch him shift the heavy luggage around until it was in the perfect position for her use. Edward stood in front of the window, ignoring it all, though he did once glance over his shoulder, his expression questioning. Winry just rolled her eyes in response when Storch wasn't looking. As the first lieutenant started out the door, she turned to Edward, her hands on her hips. "All right, what did you do to my automail this time?"
"Got into a fight," Edward grumbled back at her as the door closed, leaving them alone in the room.
She stabbed a finger at the chair she'd had Storch move to the center of the room. "Get out of your clothes so I can take a look."
Obeying sullenly, Edward tossed his jacket onto the bed, stripping the rest of the way while Winry tinkered with the radiator to make it work. The heat rose thinly at first then began pumping out warmth. Winry remembered Briggs Mountains and switching Edward's regular automail out for the northern use type. How warm that room had been, even with Mr. Kimbley staring at them. At that time, she hadn't realized she shouldn't trust the military. Or, Winry thought to herself, not the military then. The shake ups that had happened since Alphonse got his body back – she shook her head, willing that thought away but it stuck – how the brothers' search to get their bodies back provided the catalyst for what happened in Amestris. And how many people realized it? Just a handful, really; maybe twenty at the most.
"Ready." Edward was in the chair, his leg propped on the stool in front of him. Winry noticed the goose bumps on his shoulders and stripped the blanket off the bed, covering him with it.
At Edward's quizzical glance, she shrugged. "I'm sure Josephine would be upset if I sent you home with a cold."
He snorted, looking at something in the corner of the room. "I'm sorry you saw that."
Winry touched his shoulder lightly. "I've seen worse." Turning away before Edward could question her, she picked up her gloves, pulling them on. She tied on a work apron and took up a screwdriver, ready for work.
In near silence, Winry disassembled Edward's leg, breaking it down quickly. It seemed creepy to her that Edward wasn't fussing or wriggling, telling her to hurry up, he had to be out of here to go off and do something else. When she dared glance up at him, he was staring off at the window, his expression distant. Flesh fingers toying with the edge of the blanket, Edward seemed lost to his own thoughts. Winry couldn't decide whether that made it easier or more difficult.
He'd taken good care of his automail since the last time she'd serviced it. Winry felt a faint flush of pride at that; that Edward had taken care of her creations. Something nagged at the back of her mind as she thought about it, carefully maneuvering his leg and foot to figure out what was causing the imbalance. When she mumbled a request for him to wiggle his toes or flex his ankle, there was a pause, as if Edward was coming back from his own thoughts, but he always obeyed.
It took time but Winry finally found one of the problems: a fragment of metal was stuck in the gears that operated the flexing of Edward's knee. She pried it out, using fingernails and needle nose pliers, setting it aside with a little flourish. "There," she said, picking up the oil can and squirting some lubricant on the gears. Winry lifted Edward's shin, manipulating his knee joint. "How's that?"
Edward dragged his attention back from wherever he'd had it focused, blinking owlishly at her. "Thanks," he said, sounding a little hoarse, his expression still a little distant before he trained his attention on Winry. Moving his leg out of her grasp, Ed flexed the knee joint a few times. "Feels good."
Winry nodded in satisfaction. "It ought to. You had a hunk of metal caught in the gears, Ed. If you'd gotten into another fight with that lodged there," she fixed him with a glare. Edward had the grace to look at least a little sheepish. "At least," Winry went on, "you did a good job with the grill." Lifting it, she turned it in her hands. "I'm not going to ask you what sort of fight you were in that made you need to fix your leg with alchemy," pointedly not looking at Edward, Winry kept her gaze trained on the metal, "but I'm glad it worked."
"It was just an assignment," Edward said, "it got a little out of hand."
Thinking the answer sounded just a bit too pat, Winry bit her lower lip. She wasn't sure if anything she said would make a damn bit of difference, though. "And how long were you going to hobble around with your leg seized up?" She fitted the grill back over his shin, quickly screwing it into place. Silence answered her and Winry made a grumpy little sound. The knee plates were adjusted and fastened to the automail before she dared look up at Edward. "Your arm needs work, too. Or at least your hand. Your fingers aren't quite," her voice trailed off as she realized Edward was staring at her, his expression inscrutable. "What?"
"Nothing." Moving restlessly in the chair, Edward said, "I need to," he hesitated and Winry moved back out of the way, letting him get up. "Thanks, Winry." He touched the top of her head lightly as he moved past her. Winry stared after Edward as he went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
This is really weird, Winry thought, getting up off the floor and rubbing her hands together. Edward was almost…civil. She couldn't have helped but to notice the new bruises he bore; the scrapes and marks on his body that hadn't been there last time. Winry bit her lower lip, leaning her hands on the dresser. There wasn't anything she could say that would make Ed stop it. He had set himself into this self-destructive mode and Winry wasn't sure there was any way to turn him off that path. She hadn't missed that funny smell back at his apartment, one that she knew came from opium, having recognized the cloying scent from the laudanum she and Granny had been forced to give to a few of their patients.
Shivering, Winry pushed off the dresser to walk to the radiator, rubbing her hands up and down her arms for friction heat. "What can I do to convince you to live, Ed?" she asked softly. She tossed a glance over her shoulder, hearing the door open from the bathroom and Edward stepped out of it, smoothing his flesh hand over his hair. Winry couldn't help but watch as he moved, fluidly, toward the chair.
"What is it?" Edward glanced down at himself, making sure everything was tucked back where it needed to be. Verifying that it was, he sat down again, staring at Winry curiously. "Why are you looking at me like that, Winry?"
She pasted a crooked grin on her face. "Just glad you're moving better." Picking up her screwdriver, Winry twirled it in her fingers. "Time to work on your arm now." Edward grumbled and glanced away, a particular grimace on his face. Winry almost paused at the sight of it, the 'I-hate-this-having-automail-and-it-needing-to-be-maintained' scowl. A real smile spread across her face in response. "Stop whining. You still need a mechanic, Ed, and you ought to be thrilled that I still come all the way to Central to see you."
"Huh. You're just going to charge me triple. I'm still your cash cow." Edward rolled his eyes up at her through his bangs, nearly making Winry's breath catch at the familiarity of it all.
"Admit it, Ed." She set the screwdriver in place, working the first screw free from the grill, focusing her attention there. "You thrive on the attention."
"Do not." Edward slumped in the chair, lips curled in an aggrieved sneer, his chin resting in his flesh palm. "Just get it over with, machine junky."
"Sit still, then." Winry coaxed another screw loose, setting it with the first one. "And relax." Of its own accord, her grin twisted impishly. "It's not like you completely trashed my automail. For once."
Grumpily, Edward muttered, "I'm trying to avoid wrenches to the skull." His sprawl became slightly more pronounced, his left foot kicking up to land on the footboard of the bed. "They hurt." He said those words with a petulant tone to them.
Another screw set aside and Winry had one more to go before she could release the grill on Edward's forearm. "Didn't seem to slow you down too much." She removed the last screw, using the flat edge of the screwdriver to pry the grill free. It popped loose and Winry wondered when the last time Edward had looked inside was. It was obvious he'd taken care of the surface maintenance, oiling the joints and keeping the metal clean and rust free. Winry moved a lamp to get better lighting, figuring she'd need it to do the necessary work. Edward remained quiet as she tinkered, chin still cradled in his flesh hand; eyes, as far as Winry could tell, half closed and locked in the corner of the room. She didn't dare ask what Edward saw there.
"I'm sorry."
His statement came out of nowhere, startling Winry with its abruptness. "Huh?" When had Edward turned to watch her? He'd shifted the position of his body at some point; Winry remembered giving him a cursory scolding for it. Now he leaned his cheek against his fist, his gaze trained on her hands as they worked on the mechanics of his arm.
"About Josie." His chest rose and fell with a sigh. "She's…exuberant."
"It's okay, Ed." Winry flashed him a quick smile before bending over his arm again. "Your wiring is frayed, that's why your finger motion is slow. I really need to overhaul your arm but to do that, I'd need to take it off." She raised her eyes to meet his levelly. "I can do it in two days."
"Two days?" Edward made a face. "Do we have to go somewhere?"
"Well, my good equipment is in Rush Valley." Winry shrugged slightly. "I'm sure that Mr. Mustang would give you some time off." She laid her hand on his shoulder briefly. "He wouldn't want your arm to seize up in the middle of a fight." Keeping to herself the thought that Edward might not mind it in his own right, Winry went on. "You don't have anything really pressing, do you, Ed?"
The grumbling sounded familiar, too. "Not really." The admission came grudgingly and Winry was surprised Edward gave it at all. "Nothing that can't wait, I guess." His fingers moved in a studied, repetitive motion, his brow furrowing at the stickiness of the movement. "We really have to go to Rush Valley?"
"Quit whining, Ed." Winry folded her arms, allowing herself the luxury of an eye roll. "You know that's where my shop is."
"Don't know why you didn't keep it in Rezembool." Edward slumped even farther into his chair, picking at the brass studs holding the leather padding to the arm.
Winry clenched her jaw. "You do too, Ed."
The ice in her voice made him recoil and Edward half started from the chair. "Winry, I'm sorry. Really." He sighed through his teeth, a whistling sound. "I wasn't thinking, I was just," hand half raised to her, Edward let it fall back to his side. He dropped into the chair, huddling in on himself. Swallowing, Edward hid behind his bangs, letting his hair fall around his face as he lowered his head. "I just miss how green Rezembool is."
"It's not green this time of year." Winry closed her eyes, pressing her fingers against her eyelids. "It's not even spring yet, Ed. It's muddy and wet and the river floods."
"I know." His head bobbed in rueful agreement. "I just think of it always being green."
"Besides, I sold the house." Turning away from Edward, Winry was surprised to see his head snap up in the mirror's reflection.
"You what? Why?" His mouth gaped open, his eyes nearly as wide.
"It was a big house, Ed, for a big family. I'm just one person now that Granny's gone." Winry managed to not say anything about Al or about the fact that Edward never returned to Rezembool anyway. "It hurt to sell it, sure, but the couple who bought it already have two kids and another one was on the way. They needed it more than me." She gave Edward's reflection a rueful smile. "Anyway, if I want to stay on the top of my game, I need to be in Rush Valley. There are so many discoveries there every day, Ed. The things I can learn there…I couldn't do that in Rezembool, by myself. It helps a lot, having people there who understand your passion."
"Did you need money?" Edward tilted his head, his expression reminding Winry of a whipped puppy's. "All you had to do was ask."
"Ed. No, I didn't need money. I needed a fresh start, somewhere different." Winry turned to face him, leaning her backside against the vanity. "It helped. It got me to clear my head. I'll admit it, Ed, I do miss the house but it's just a house. I know what I really miss is the way that Granny made me feel, and Al. And you," she added. "It wasn't easy to do, Ed, but once I did it, once I made up my mind that I needed to do it, it felt like the right thing."
"If you say so." Edward remained unconvinced. Words seemed to be struggling in his throat to escape but he said nothing more, just studied her with a peculiar look in his eyes. "So." He made the attempt to redirect the conversation. "I guess I'll come to you in Rush Valley, soon as I can make arrangement for some leave time."
"I wouldn't wait, Ed." Winry moved back to him, fitting the grill back into place on his arm and locking it into place with the screws. She lightly touched one of his bruises with the backs of her knuckles. "I want you to be able to depend on your automail."
"Last time it failed me in a fight, it really wasn't too bad. I didn't get beat up nearly as badly as I could have. That's what he said, at least." Edward made a little self-depreciating snort. "Not like I wasn't already bleeding to death anyway." He didn't seem to notice how Winry's knuckles went white on the screwdriver. "Heh. Said that I was a chosen sacrifice. He kneed me in the gut and carried me out of that lab. Funny." Edward's metal fingers twitched sluggishly. "I used that against them, that knowledge that they couldn't let me die. Or they weren't supposed to let me die." Winry didn't like the little smile on Edward's face. "It almost feels the same way now except I can't figure out any reason why I should still be alive."
Fury boiled out of her and Winry rose in one jerky movement, her hand drawing back to slap Edward hard, nearly sending him sprawling across the arm of the chair. "Get out." She stabbed a finger at the door, pointing with the screwdriver for emphasis. "Get dressed and get out of my room."
That weird grin still in place, Edward righted himself to climb out of the chair. "Sure, Winry." He gathered together his clothing, pulling on his trousers without bothering to turn away from her. Winry forced herself to remain impassive, her arms folded, the screwdriver pressed against her upper arm so tight she was sure its imprint would remain long after Edward walked out the door. Shrugging into his shirt, Edward buttoned it and tucked it in, fastening his belt. "Thanks for the work. Send me the bill, okay?" His voice turned vicious as he said, "I'll give you a big tip for coming all the way to Central to hit me."
Jaw muscles flexing, Winry bit back the scream that wanted to explode out her throat. She knew it wouldn't do any good. She followed Edward with her eyes as he stomped into his boots and continued on to the door, swinging it open then slamming behind him as he went through. Winry jerked at the sound. The door groaned, swinging open again, the latch not catching from the force of the slam and Winry heard the soft clatter of the screwdriver falling from her grip as she raised her hands to cover her face.
Josie looked up as he walked into the apartment, a catlike smile curling up the corner of her mouth. "You're back earlier than I expected." Edward tore off his jacket, flinging it at the back of a chair. It hit, sliding off to pool in a damp heap on the floor. The glare he sent her way should've flayed her to the bone. Instead, her smile widened with a maliciousness that would've made Envy proud. "Didn't your maintenance go well?"
Cigarette smoke swirled up out of the ashtray on the table and a glass of some amber, alcoholic liquid sat next to it. Edward crossed the room in three steps, picking up the glass and rattling the ice. He drank the whiskey, ignoring Josie's protest that he should get his own. Edward realized something was wrong when he lowered the glass and it slid right of his fingers, striking the edge of the table. It shattered, spraying glass and ice.
"What the hell, Edward?" Josie spat out, brushing at the hem of her robe. What little whiskey left in the glass had splattered her, adhering the silky fabric to her body. Her eyes narrowed sharply. "I thought your little golden girl was going to fix you."
She did, Edward almost said but kept that back; Josie could be almost irrational when Winry's name came up. He'd never actually wanted them to meet. Winry wouldn't understand what Josie gave him and that was mutual – even if Edward wasn't sure himself if Winry gave him more than he could get from another mechanic. If he had someone else, Edward thought he wouldn't be having this problem with his hand. "I'm good to go," he said finally, when Josie gave him an expectant look.
"You just can't hold your liquor." She gestured at the pieces of glass on the table.
Edward sneered at the comment, making Josie smile again. She crooked a finger at him and he moved around the table, his boot grinding glass shards into the carpet. Leaning one knee on the sofa, his hands resting on the back of it, Edward effectively caged Josie in between his arms. "I can hold other things."
"You'd better be able to prove it." Her voice went husky and she looked up at him through her eyelashes. Her eyes reminded Edward of a piece of jade he'd seen once, clouded with paler streaks of green. She was beautiful in a way no other woman he'd ever met was, with her pale, clear skin and pretty, curly hair. Her body was lush enough that even Mustang had given her a second glance when he'd seen her with Edward. She didn't understand alchemy and when they'd first met, she didn't even know who he was – which, Edward admitted, had been part of the charm. She'd just made sure he had a drink and was comfortable and that was enough. It didn't matter to Edward that Josie was a little older than he was – that she was a little more worldly. Hell, they'd met in a bar, when he was trying to get so drunk he didn't have to remember he'd buried his brother two months and fourteen days previously and desperately wanted to drown out the memories of Winry's tears at Alphonse's funeral.
Winry…Edward shook his head, hard enough to make his messy bangs fly. He bared his teeth, wanting Winry out of his thoughts again. She was part of his past now and, even if Josie didn't belong in his future, she was part of his present. Josie hadn't laughed when she realized he'd never had sex before. Edward let her do what she wanted; she had marked him; made him her own. She had more of an impact on Edward than any woman ever had. Liar, the little voice in his head reminded him and his right hand fisted. He realized and forced his fingers to relax. "Oh," he said, remembering that Josie had challenged him, that he was ignoring her and that was never good, "I think I'm up for it." He reached for his belt buckle only to have Josie take hold of it first, batting his hand away.
"Let me," she all but purred, her nimble fingers pulling at the tongue of Edward's belt. The tugging fired his blood and he bit his lip as Josie dragged the belt from the loops of his trousers. The belt fell to the floor, the buckle thumping on the threadbare carpet. Josie jerked at the belt loops, dragging Edward down onto the couch with her. She dug her fingers into his ass, squeezing hard. "Let's try you out, huh? Give your parts a workout." Her smile was icy cold and her fingers felt the same as they slipped up under his shirt. "You're thinking of her."
"No." Edward shivered at her touch. "No, I'm not." Josie's fingernails dug into the flesh at the small of his back. "I'm not thinking of her!"
"I can tell by your eyes." Josie's mouth tightened and she shoved Edward back. "Get me the belt." Off balance, Edward nearly fell back onto the table. Josie watched him, her expression dark. "The belt, Ed." She held out her hand expectantly. "Now."
Licking his lips, Edward squatted to pick up the leather strap. His right hand didn't grip it properly, making him grasp the buckle with his left hand. The cold metal seemed to sting his palm. Slowly, he straightened, offering the belt to Josie. She accepted it, gesturing at his torso, flipping her finger up and down.
Edward started removing his damp shirt, peeling it up over his head. The cool air of the apartment made his skin prickle or maybe that was Josie's dispassionate eyes, studying him. "Take off the rest of your clothes." She flicked her finger against the button on his trousers and Edward bit his tongue, hands moving to obey her. He struggled for a few seconds with his right hand before his fingers worked properly. Josie's sigh made him undress quickly, kicking off his shoes and shucking out of his trousers, underwear and socks in almost one motion. He glanced down, making sure his flesh foot was no where near the ground up glass on the floor.
Josie doubled the belt, snapping the leather between her hands, making Edward tremble. "Go there." She pointed to a table, pressed against the wall nearest the door. "Put your hands on the table and spread your legs."
Swallowing hard at the sudden dryness in his mouth, Edward moved jerkily to the table, complying with the order. Josie's harsh little whisper, "You won't want to think of your little mechanic when I'm done," sent a shiver down his spine.