Brief Commentary:
Yey, Alice now has more fans! TEH WIN - my dream hath come true, for mine Alice is but as beautiful as a blooming flower, led astray...
Okay, you probably don't wanna know where that came from. ;O Neither do I, but I have time on my hands. So...here's the next chapter. Expect another RNFYE sometime tomorrow, although it's going to be another filler, unfortunately...-pouts- Damn it, I just wanna skip to the climax already, but I can't, because then everyone would get confused. Errgh. Anyway, enough about RNFYE - review?

Three Fourths Dumber
Coffee, Among Other Things

The remainder of the day had been exhausting - after an old-fashioned, country-style dinner (which, honestly, was much better than anything Matthew's frozen dinners could come up with), he had declared himself tired and asked if there was a room he and Alice could possibly sleep in. Pinako and Winry had offered their only spare room - the room that Winry's parents once shared, before they had died. Feeling a bit guilty, Matthew thanked them and started up the wooden stairs, half-staggering as he went. Alice, not even bothering to excuse herself, leapt up after him, a grin on her face. He barely noticed. Not nearly so blind to her intentions, the group of people still sitting at the table grimaced, a few blushes gathering at some of their cheeks.

And while it was only 7:49 PM or so, his exhaustion was due to the fact that they had no idea where they were, stuck in some back-water country town surrounded by nothing but fields and farms as far as the eye could see. Matthew had fancied himself seeing an old Model-T rumbling down the dirt road at one point, but surely that was his imagination. There had to at least be a pick-up truck, or something...something he knew how to actually drive, for God's sake.

Eyes closed, he let out a low moan of satisfaction as he slumped onto the bed, the sheets cold and stiff from what must've been years of disuse. But Matthew didn't mind, as he readjusted himself so that he was propped up against the pillows. They, too, were stiff, but he wasn't in the mood to sit up and fluff them out. The creak of the bed springs alerted him that somebody (from the smell, Alice) had joined him on the mattress, and fluttering a gray eye, his suspicion was right. Said eye flickered towards the wooden door, which was now closed and probably locked.

Both eyes reluctantly opened, his field of vision landing on his girlfriend, who was perched on her knees and the palms of her hands, slightly hunched over with her healthy brown hair draping around her face. Her "rented" white shirt had been adjusted so that one bare shoulder (accompanied by a bra strap) was exposed, several undone buttons suggesting the slightest bounce of cleavage. Alice's new cotton skirt had been obviously pulled at, so that the hem of her panties were visible.

"Maaaaaaaaaaatt," she smiled and bit her lower lip as she practically purred his name. Her face dipped closer to his, her hair brushing his eyelids and his cheeks.
"What?" Matthew mumbled sleepily, already immune to her try at seduction (which, he was sure, to some men was rather attractive, not to mention sexy).
"Can we do something together?"
"Like what?"
"You know," Alice giggled, climbing on top of him and pinching at the material of his undershirt. Her manicured fingers trailed down to the hem of said clothing, and she slowly pulled it up, exposing fairly well-developed abdominal muscles. Lazily, his hands grabbed her wrists, not applying pressure but effectively trapping them.
"Sorry, I'm really tired," Matthew apologized softly. He might've laughed at Alice's pout.
"But Alice wants to-"
"I know what you want to do, but not tonight, m'kay?"

She frowned and rolled off of him, wrapping her arms around herself as she lay down, her back facing him. Good-naturedly, Matthew rolled his eyes and reached out to pull her closer to his side. A frown still present on her face, Alice turned so that her face was close to his. It melted away at his amused smile, turning instead into a scowl. He chuckled and kissed her nose before he closed his eyes again, wrapping his arms around her as she - at first, reluctantly - snuggled into him.

"G'night, Alice."
"Un."

Rather early in the morning, roughly quarter to six or so, Matthew's eyes fluttered open to the sight of the top of Alice's head, her nose barely touching his throat as he felt her breathe in and out. Yawning, his arms snaked out from under her and he sat up against the bed's head board, still half-asleep. Eventually, as the sun slowly made its way over the horizon, Matthew climbed out of the queen-sized bed, almost certain his hair was a mess but not especially caring. Wishing he knew what exactly Alice had done with his shirt, he shrugged it off and made his way over to the door. It took him a while to remember that his girlfriend had locked it, and, feeling a bit stupid, he proceeded to unlock it and open it, stepping out into the narrow hallway.

Careful to keep his footsteps quiet, Matthew inwardly cringed whenever the wooden floorboards creaked and groaned under his weight. His feet seemed to find every board that would squeak the loudest, and rarely was there a step made where there was nothing but silence. The staircase, as the eighteen year old approached it, had never seemed so long and intimidating, and ever-so-slowly, he made his way downstairs, beginning to realize how hungry he was when the earthy smell of coffee hit his nose. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, a glance towards the kitchen alerted him of Winry's presence. Slightly surprised at how early she must've woken up, he was slightly amused when she jumped at the sound of his voice.

"Good morning."
"...O-oh! Hey, um, Matthew."
"That coffee smells good - you brew it yourself?"
She threw him a confused look.
"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"
"Right, right," Matthew smacked a hand to his forehead. "You guys don't have instant coffee or a Starbucks around here, d'you."
Winry only seemed more puzzled, and with great reluctance he decided to explain.
"Um, instant coffee is basically beans that are already crushed into powder - you can buy it at any store where I come from, really - and you just add it to hot water. Of course, other...stuff, like cream and what ever goes in there, but it's a really fast way of making it. Doesn't always taste that good...but, uh, Starbucks - that's like, um..."
He scratched his head.
How do you explain the concept of Starbucks to a fifteen year old? All the fifteen year olds I know have the definition of Starbucks memorized by the time they're eleven.
"Well, it's basically a store that just sells...uh, different kinds of coffee. There's a lot of different flavors and...uh...well..."
Matthew shrugged helplessly. Winry returned the gesture as she took the coffee pot and poured a mug, handing it to him. Mumbling a "Thanks," he quickly took a sip, ignoring his scalding tongue as he did so. The caffeine would hopefully wake him up quickly.

Pouring herself a cup, Winry turned to face him fully, face relatively pink. He didn't notice, however, as he focused on the welt bruising her cheek.
"Don't you want ice for that? The swelling will go down much more quickly," Matthew motioned towards it, a frown on his face. "I'm sorry - it looks like it really hurts."
Winry's hand went to her face, and she blushed harder.
"No, honestly, it's okay."
"You sure?" he decided it would be fine if he touched it this once. It appeared to be very swollen and red, the skin there pulled tight. He allowed two fingers to brush it, and didn't miss Winry's barely-suppressed flinch. Her eyes gazed up at him with some emotion he couldn't quite place, and pain.
"Yup, you need ice on that. Where's the frid-..." Matthew's frown deepened. "You have a refrigerator, don't you?"
"We have a Frigidaire..." she said slowly, not quite comprehending. "with a couple of ice cube trays..."
"That's good enough," he shook his head. "Show me where it is?"

Winry pointed to a diminutive little object sitting in the corner of the kitchen. It appeared to be made of metal and stainless steel, more in resemblance to an icebox than a modern fridge. He recognized it as one of the earliest mechanical refrigerators. Matthew decided that he was tempted to ask if they really were in Africa.

With some difficulty, he opened the metal door, peering in to see two ice cube trays, slightly coated with frost. Pulling one out, he glanced expectantly around for paper towels, but reluctantly remembered that there seemed to be a huge lack of modern technology and products in this particular house.
"You have a dishtowel?" he finally conceded, closing the Frigidaire and placing the ice cube tray carefully on the table.
"Uh, sure," Winry pulled one off of a rack, determining it dry before handing it to him. Expertly plucking out exactly six ice cubes, he aligned them on the laid out dishtowel before folding the material over several times, handing it to the automail mechanic.
"Winry, I want you to put that on the swollen area for fifteen minutes, then off for fifteen, then back on. When it's off, put it back in the fridge," he motioned towards it. "Do this as much as possible. If the ice melts, replace it. It's important to get that welt down - you might even be at risk for infection."
He grinned at her slightly awed expression as she obediently placed it on her cheek, wincing a little as she did so. He wasn't a part-time physician for nothing.

"So...is Alice awake?" Winry muttered past the ice, changing the subject as she leaned against the counter.
He shook his head.
"She's never up before eleven - we have a few hours until she starts wreaking havoc," he joked, picking up his coffee mug and taking another sip. Unamused, Winry briefly put down her make-shift ice pack to do the same. They glanced out the kitchen window simultaneously, watching the sky bleed red as the sun continued to climb into the sky.
"This is one reason I get up early in the morning, besides going to work," Matthew admitted. "Alice says she hates it when I leave her alone, though."
"And what about Alice?" the adolescent next to him grumbled. "She's infuriating. Who cares what she dislikes?"
He was mildly surprised by Winry's sudden change in attitude. Most girls weren't quite as open, but their loathing towards his girlfriend was generally very obvious.
"She's my girlfriend," he gently reminded her, not bothering to look at her face. "I care."
"Why are you even with her?" was the growled response; she paused to take another sip of coffee.
Matthew grinned.
"Are you jealous?"
Winry nearly spit out what was in her mouth, spluttering anxiously,
"O-of course not! That's ridiculous - I was just wondering, you know?"
She stubbornly reapplied the ice pack to her face.
"It's okay, it's okay, I'm just kidding," he waved a hand in the air in mock surrender. "But really...I'm with Alice because-"
"Oi, do you know how loudly you two talk in the morning?" an irritable voice interrupted him.
Turning his attention to the staircase, Matthew was slightly surprised to see Edward there, only dressed in his boxers with his long hair pulled back in a disarrayed pony tail.
"Morning there, sunshine," Winry retorted sarcastically. "You up for coffee? I won't be making it for you again."
"Oh, gee, thanks," was the equally sarcastic reply. A "Sure," was mumbled at the end of his sentence. When Winry had her back turned to them, Matthew heard him mutter,
"What happened to her cheek?"
"Alice," he replied in a whisper.
Both males grimaced slightly.

For those of you whom I scared; no. There will not be any lemons between Alice and Matt. I don't even want to think about it. XD