A/N: Meant to update yesterday, but Fridays are turning into my super long driving days for work (the joys of a sister company an hour away), and I was beat when I got home.
As far as worlds, I'm just going to say when in doubt: Brotherhood.
52. I won't surrender
Ed was exhausted after a long day of fighting with Mustang. He stumbled into the Central hotel room without bothering to hit the light. It seemed empty; Al was probably looking at stars on the roof or something. Ed quickly kicked off his boots, shed his pants and jacket, and collapsed onto the bed.
Which promptly yelped like an injured cat.
What Ed had taken for a large pillow suddenly rolled over- tell-tale wrench in hand.
"Winry?"
"Ed?"
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"This is my room, what are you doing here?"
"They- oh crap."
Before leaving for headquarters, Ed had arrived at the hotel that evening with Al in tow and supporting Winry, who was half asleep and wrapped around him for stability. He had asked for two rooms to accommodate the three of them. Stepping out of himself for a moment, Ed would have come to the same conclusion the manager evidently had. Judging by Winry's expression of tired revelation, she would have, too.
"Al's door is locked, and you're not making a hole in the wall again, so I guess you can take the couch," she said, rolling back over as if that were the end of it. Ed, however, would have none of that.
"Hell no, I'm taking the bed; you take the couch!" he proclaimed, and he climbed into the bed.
Winry sat up and towered over him. "I was here first," she growled.
"I'm paying for this place!"
"You don't make a lady sleep on a couch!"
"You're no 'lady' and you know it!"
"I… ok fine I'll give you that."
"Great, so move," said Ed and he climbed over her lap to the other side of the huge bed.
"No! I won't surrender!" she cried, and tried to push him out of her spot, but Ed never took anything lying down.
"Me neither!" he replied, and both teens tried to wrestle each other out of the bed. Winry hitting him was nothing new, but Ed was too fed up not to fight back, and he easily flipped her on her back, holding her wrists and pinning her to the bed. Determined as always, Winry kept struggling against him; alarmingly, the lower half of his body seemed to be staging a large scale mutiny in response to her writhing.
Apparently, a moment's hesitation was all Winry needed, and she went straight for his very ticklish left side, from armpit to navel. "Gotcha!" she cried, and Ed tried fruitlessly to pin her again.
At last, they lied side by side exhausted from the struggle. Ed thanked the God he didn't believe in that the tickle attack had cured the 'mutiny.' Winry propped herself up on her elbow and looked over at him with a smile. He felt his cheeks heat up, and hoped his color was the only thing rising. "I swear, if you pull a wrench from behind your ear or something, I'm transmuting it into its base elements," he threatened.
Winry giggled, and Ed couldn't help watching the loose, thin strap slip down her shoulder. "You know, the bed's big enough, we could always share," she suggested.
Ed blanched. "What?" he croaked.
"It's no big deal, our moms used to put all three of us down for naps together, and even threw us in the bath together," she added.
"We were two!"
Winry laid her head on his shoulder. "You always did make a good pillow," she said as she settled in. Ed stiffened, but she didn't seem to care and draped an arm over him. He had to admit (to himself, and only himself) that her weight was kind of comforting, and it seemed like his flesh arm was already curled around her, and his eyelids were drooping… Aw hell, he thought. There might be hell to pay in the morning, but for the moment, Ed gave in to sleep.