A/N: Tobu, I wuv you. Wuv wuv wuv. Your praise and concrit just makes my day. Seriously, I appreciate it so much. Hmm, how Winry can quote the AA handbook is beyond me. File a complaint with my muse.
XIII. Recess
The train car was getting chillier and chillier with each hand they played. Since neither player was up to risking their money, they opted to wager less precious things: shoes, socks, coats. Winry, now without her boots or coat, hunched over her hand of cards and snuggled deeper into her bounty: a long red overcoat and a thinner, black coat. Once she tucked her bare feet against her thighs on the bench, her situation did not seem so bad. Her opponent, on the other hand, was not doing well. Now without either of his coats, Edward was looking rather uncomfortable. Winry's coat, which he had rightfully won three hands ago, was too small for him—a discovery made with much triumphant hue and cry. The celebration quickly died, however, when Edward remembered that it was February in Central, on a train that protected against the elements about as well as a set of car keys shaken in the midst of an Ishballan rain dance.
"Not looking so big and tough anymore, are you?" Winry goaded.
"Shut up," Edward muttered, casting a glance at his winnings. He should have thought ahead. Did it occur to him that in lieu of his coats, Winry's belongs would serve absolutely no purpose? No, of course not. Her tiny, girlish boots and tiny, girlish coat would make better fuel for a fire. He would have tried it, too, were it not for the inevitable enraged girl and peeved train attendants that would be a result.
"All right, Ed. You've been glaring at your cards for five minute now. You're not going to intimidate them into changing," Winry chirped.
"I'm thinking, here, all right," he snapped. "Remind me not to play poker with you in the future."
Winry put her nose in the air. "Is it my fault that I'm lucky and just that skilled? Now place your bet."
Edward grumbled under his breath and went back to scowling at his cards. In truth, he had a rather good hand. His royal straight seemed promising, and he could not imagine that Winry had anything better. The problem was he was running out of things to bet. He had cash, but with the prospects of ensuring lodging and food for Winry, his brother, and himself on the horizon, he thought it safer to keep his funds to himself. He knew exactly what Winry would do with the money once she got it; they were on their way to Rush Valley—any money Winry had was as good as gone. The idea of losing anymore clothing was even less appealing. He already knew that it would take some finagling to get his coats back even after the cards had been put away; if he lost anything else, things would start getting indecent.
"Tick tock, Ed," Winry sang. Edward glared at her.
As annoying at he thought she was, she had reminded him of the last playable item on his person; however, he was not certain if he trusted his hand enough to risk it. The game had been evenly matched for the most part, but his hand was good. Still, could he risk his pocket watch? He knew he'd probably never see it again once she got her hands on it.
Edward felt Alphonse looking over his shoulder. With a grumble of protest, Edward snatched his cards away. "Back off," he snapped even though Alphonse was not participating.
Al crossed his arms with a quiet clank and looked ahead. "Just making sure you're playing fair, brother. I'm glad Winry took your coats; you've got no sleeves to hide things in."
Winry smirked. "That's just like you, Ed, to cheat your own baby brother."
"Really," Alphonse added.
"Come on," Edward retorted. "I gave you all your stuff back, didn't I?"
"Still," said Al. Even without facial expressions, Edward knew his brother was pouting.
Winry put her palm down hard on Edward's suitcase, their makeshift table resting on both of their knees. "We're going to be pulling up to Rush Valley before you get on with it, aren't we?"
"Fine!" Edward snapped. He reached into his pocket and snatched out his watch. He quickly unlatched the chain from the watch and set it down next to the deck. "You happy?"
Winry watched the timepiece for a moment in astonishment. Then, her eyes grew wide and shiny as she clasped her cards to her chest. "I can't believe it," she murmured.
"Don't think you're going to get it."
Winry's teary expression quickly snapped into a smug smirk. "It's as good as mine, Ed. You better start coming with excuses for Mustang when you have to beg him to issue you a new one."
"And you better start coming up with ways to beg me to give you your coat when I take back mine," Edward countered. Winry had bet both of his coats. Obviously the stakes were high.
"Are you sure you don't want to reconsider, Edward?" sneered Winry, leaning forward.
Edward leaned forward as well. "I could be asking you the same thing."
"Don't worry about me."
"Same to you."
"Fine." Winry sat back and pursed her lips.
Edward did the same. "Fine."
"Lay out your cards then see if you're so damn confident."
"You first."
"No you first. I dealt."
"What kind of rule is that? You bet first. Lay 'em down."
"I'm playing casino-style, Edward, like a professional. You show first."
"Oh yeah, like you've ever been in a casino."
"How would you know? Maybe I have."
"You can't convince anyone you're eighteen."
"You couldn't convince anyone you're twelve."
"That was uncalled for, Winry."
"The truth hurts."
"I'm not short!"
"Admitting is the first step toward acceptance, Edward. You're tiny."
"I am not!"
"Uh huh!"
"Nuh uh!"
"Uh huh!"
"Nuh-"
"Would one of you just lay down your cards?" Alphonse exclaimed, throwing up his hands. "You sound like a couple of three-year-olds."
Both Edward and Winry shot out a single hand and pointed at the other, declaring simultaneously that the other had started it. Alphonse let out an exasperated sigh and flopped back loudly against the chair. "Children," he moaned, shaking his head.
Scowling furiously, Winry and Edward looked back toward each other. They locked eyes in a silent staring contest, but it was not long before Edward made a loud declaration about being the bigger person and laid down his hand, displaying proudly his ace-high straight.
"Read 'em and weep," he said.
Winry looked from his hand then down to hers and back again. Her face fell. "Too bad," she moaned.
"Ha!" Edward barked. "Hand over my coats."
Winry pouted at her cards for a long moment before looking back up. Her pout then faded rather quickly into a smart grin. "No, too bad for you Edward." Winry spread her cards out on the suitcase. "A full house, baby!"
"What?" Edward asked, his voice cracking.
"Ha ha!" Winry snatched up the pocket watch. "Who's the loser? You're the loser!" she said, pointing at Edward. "I can't wait to tear this thing apart." She clutched the watch to her chest.
"No, wait!" Edward said. "I want a rematch! Give that back!"
"Oh, no, Edward. I won this fair and square." Winry turned her shoulder toward Edward, cradling the watch protectively.
"I'll give you all your stuff back, Winry. I'll buy you all the junk you want in Rush Valley. Just give me back my watch!"
"You mean my watch, Edward?" she goaded.
He growled audibly and resolved to trade begging for attacking. Winry squeaked as Edward swatted the suitcase aside and lunged for her. The air was filled with a burst of fluttering cards from the upset suitcase.
"Brother!" Al chided at the suitcase flew into the aisle and slid to a stop at the feet of another passenger. The few people on the train with them were turning and staring, some more surreptitiously than others. Edward did not seem to notice them.
"Gimme that watch!" he barked. In the resulting jumble of limbs, Winry slipped off the bench and fell to the ground with a loud thud and yelp of protest.
"Hey!" she cried, still holding the watch to her chest. From his perch on the bench, Edward glared down at her. "What's wrong with you? That hurt, you jerk!"
"It'll hurt less if you give up now!"
"Oh, you wanna wrestle?" Winry asked haughtily. She suddenly wished she had a wrench in her hands instead of the watch; it would make her bluff a little more convincing. "Let's hope you're better at that than you are at poker."
Edward snarled and pounced. Winry scurried backwards until her back was to the wall, the window above her head. Once cornered, she realized that—all bragging aside—she probably could not pin Edward even if he were missing all his automail and then some. She ducked behind her arms, but Edward seized both her wrists and pulled them away. Moving too fast for Winry to struggle, he gripped the hand containing his watch, extended her arm fully, turned around, and pinned her elbow between his side and his upper arm.
"Ow! You jerk!" Winry exclaimed, pulling on her arm fruitlessly. She pounded on his back, but Edward was too busy trying to pry her fingers loose to notice. "Al, help me out!" Winry said, turning to the suit of armor to her right. Even with Alphonse's expressionless face, Winry could tell he had rolled his eyes.
"Brother, let her go," Alphonse said.
Edward shook his head. "Don't side with her!"
"She did win it fair and-"
From the sleeve Edward had trapped in his grip, two kings, a queen, and three aces fell, landing silently on the floorboards.
"-Square."
Both Edward and Winry stopped struggling and watched the small pile of very valuable cards by Edward's thigh. Slowly, Edward turned a deadly glare on his opponent. Winry stared for a moment before putting on a wide, disarming grin.
"Oh, how did those get there?" she asked.
"You little…" Edward turned around and readied for an attack. Once her arm was free, Winry leapt to her feet and, with more agility than Edward knew she possessed, vaulted over him and darted into the aisle. Gaping, Edward watched her tear down the aisle and out of the car.
They sat in a moment of silence, gawking at her escape. "You shouldn't have bet something so valuable, brother," Alphonse said eventually.
Edward frowned and stood up. "I could use a little help, you know. She's like a freaking monkey."
"What goes around comes around," Alphonse replied, crossing his arms over his chest plate.
Edward pursed his lips in a glare. "Fine. I don't need your help anyway, Al. It's not like she can get that far." With that, Edward turned and stormed off in the direction in which Winry had just left, deliberately ignoring all the annoyed expressions he received.
Once Edward was gone, most of the faces were turned to Alphonse, who would have grinned awkwardly if he could. Instead, he held up his palms in surrender and murmured a quick apology to anyone close enough to hear.
It was like that, he had found. Alphonse was often on clean-up duty. Sometimes, Alphonse thought maybe his brother made such boisterous displays in public to try and distract from Al's appearance. It worked for the most part; more people stared at and whispered about the Fullmetal Alchemist than they did his sidekick. Whether that was Edward's intention or not, Al usually found himself smoothing out the wreckage in his brother's wake.
He did not mind. Alphonse was a peacemaker by nature, and it made him feel rather like he was taking care of Edward, looking out for him. It might not be atonement—his secret desire that Alphonse kept stowed away in his hollow chest—but it was something.
Alphonse smiled: a distant memory of the sensation of muscles contracting and skin pulling. He smiled at the thought of one more deed done to his brother's benefit, of the sweet retaliation of karma, of how refreshing it was to see his brother playing.
Alphonse liked having Winry around; it was the only time Edward ever really played.
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Omake ;D
(For Terrasina Dragonwagon and Droolingsleep)
Winry heard footsteps pounding behind her. She risked a glance over her shoulder and found one irate, watchless State Alchemist on a warpath. She let out an excited laugh and leapt into a run down the narrow aisle through the benches.
"There's no point in running, Winry," Edward called, "You can't get off the train."
"That's what you think!" Winry called back. She was not exactly sure how she could prove Edward wrong, but she was in the mood to be antagonistic, so she countered anyway.
Together, they charged into the next car and the next until they reached the end of the passenger cars.
"You're running out of train!" Edward shouted when he caught up to Winry at the entrance to the first cargo car. The cabin was packed and dark, smelling acrid like gunpowder.
Weaving her way through a forest of large, wooden crates, Winry called back, "That won't stop me! And no alchemy in here, buddy. These crates are filled with explosives!"
"How do you know that?" Edward asked, vaulting over a crate.
"An attendant told me in the dining car. Really, Ed, you were right there. Would it kill you to pay attention sometimes?" Winry threw open the back door and stepped out onto the blustery platform. Edward reached the door just in time to suck in a breath when Winry leapt the gap between the two platforms.
The next car contained a noisome sardine tin of pigs. This was exponentially more difficult to maneuver through than the crates since the pigs tended to move around. Still, Winry swam through the livestock with Edward paddling at her heels. Into the next car they escaped and chased respectively. Now in the inanimate obstacle course of grain bags piled to the ceiling, Winry gained some distance. She turned to goad Edward on but tripped over the protruding corner of one bag before she could say a word. With a shriek and a loud thud, Winry hit the floor hard.
Shooting back up to her feet, Winry turned and darted through the door. Edward almost seized the back of her shirt before she jumped, but she launched herself just in time. Upon landing on the opposite platform, Winry turned and stuck out her tongue.
"You're cornered now!" Edward shouted over the wind. Winry called back to him, but her words were lost in the whoosh and clatter. She then turned and slipped through the door of the last cargo car. Edward followed.
Throwing open the door dramatically, Edward nearly collided with Winry's back. He managed to skid to a halt at her side instead. When she simply stood there, Edward opened his mouth to ask what she was doing, but stopped when he noticed the strange state of the car.
Through the air wafted the sounds of bedroom beseeching to the tune of early 70's gratuitous sexuality and overused falsetto.
"What the hell is this?" Edward asked, looking around the nearly empty car.
"It must be that feather mattress, ceiling mirror, and Marvin Gaye record shipment the attendant mentioned."
"Oh," Edward replied. That made sense with the thick mattress on the floor, the long mirror on the ceiling, and the aural aphrodisiac in the air.
"Well that was fun," Winry said, turning to Edward and putting her hands on her hips. "But now I'm all hot and sweaty and gross." She looked down at herself.
"If only there were a shipment of conveniently pre-filled bathtubs," Edward offered, eyeing the watch in Winry's hand.
"If only," she sighed. "What am I going to do with a mattress, a ceiling mirror, and really suggestive Marvin Gaye music?"
"Well, you can't hide!" Edward exclaimed, lunging for his pocket watch. Winry wrenched it away and stumbled backwards. She took a few awkward steps before falling to a heap on the remarkably soft and comfortable mattress. In the jumble, she took Edward down with her.
"Ha!" he said, pinning her arm to the mattress and pulling the watch from her hand. "Teach you to cheat at cards!"
Winry would have snapped back at him had she not come to the sudden realization that she was literally nose to nose with Edward and pinned quite fully to an opportunely placed mattress, watching Edward's back in the mirror above and trying not to listen to the permeating bedroom voice of Mr. Gaye.
Edward must have noticed, too, because he swallowed audibly and blushed as bright at his coat. "So… uh… yeah. I win," he stuttered before slipping his watch into his pocket.
As Edward began to remove himself from the tangled knot of limbs, Winry seized his shoulders and agilely flipped them both over. Now perched over Edward, Winry pulled the watch from his pocket.
"Hey!" Edward protested, sitting up and reaching. Winry held the watch away before tossing it over her shoulder. Edward's face fell as the watch hit the floor and slid to a stop a distance away.
"Forget the stupid watch. Is it just me," Winry began, her face flaring up like the fireworks over the Titanic, "Or is this whole thing really—"
"Convenient?" Edward interjected after leaning back on his elbows.
"No," Winry glared. "I was going to say…" she looked around quickly before lowering her voice, "sexy."
Edward squeaked. "I g-guess."
"Isn't it, though?" she asked quickly. "It is," she glanced around again and whispered, "sexy."
"Do you have to keep saying it like that?" Edward asked, his voice cracking.
"I can't help it!" Winry whined. "You try saying it."
"No."
"Come on, just try."
"No way!"
Winry put her hands on her hips and frowned. "Say it or I'm taking my shirt off!"
"Huh?"
Winry doubted that she had ever seen the blood leave someone's face that fast. Edward looked terrified, and that only made her grin when she grasped the hem of her shirt and began an upward tug.
"Sexy!" Edward exclaimed, grabbing her shirt and holding it down. "Sexy sexy sexy! Just keep your clothes on!"
"What's wrong with you?" Winry asked, crossing her arms. "I'm not letting you off this ridiculously plush mattress until you tell me what's got you so weird."
"I don't know," he snapped sarcastically, pushing himself up and glaring into her eyes. "But it might have something to do with the girl sitting on me!"
"Oh, please," Winry sighed. "You've thought about it. You know you have. Plus, we owe this story's followers a little fan service, don't you think? I mean, it has been thirteen chapters."
"What?" Edward gave her a confused expression. "No, I've never thought… well, not recently… not since… uh…"
"You're thinking about it right now," Winry said in a singsong voice.
"It's just," Edward stammered before falling victim to an unforeseen streak of sincerity. "I've got deep-seated trust issues with women stemming from my mother and my feelings of abandonment due to her dying when I was so young."
"Okay, Freud," Winry said exasperatedly.
"Who the hell is Freud?" Edward asked. "For that matter, who the hell is Marvin Gaye?"
"That's irrelevant, Edward," Winry said, clipping the end of his sentence. "What matters is that I've got you pinned to a mattress, we're all alone, and it's inevitable even if it's not canon."
Edward sighed. "Oh, okay."
Winry clapped her hands. "Yippee!"
"I guess this would be a good time to tell you that I've been insanely in love with you since childhood. Even though I appeared not to give a rat's ass about you, you've never left my mind. You haunt my dreams; you—"
"What are you doing?" Winry asked, wrinkling her nose.
Edward blinked. "Uh… just trying to feed you romantic platitudes. Fan service, right?"
"Oh, right," Winry wiggled her hips. "Ditto."
They proceeded to rip each other's clothes off, dramatically kiss every inch of the other, and get it on with techniques that cannot be described in a K+ rated fiction. Just know that it was really, really hot for a really, really long duration because they were young, and young people can do that.