Disclaimer: Don't own FMA. Don't own the song "I Love You," by Sarah McLachlan. I do own a copy of the CD, however.
Author's Note: Wow! I was able to update in a few days! Yeah, it's probably early Thursday morning, but I don't care. It was along day...I havea freaking ganglean cyst on my wrist which may have to be surgically removed. Stupid doctor made us wait for a freaking hour to be seen for fifteen minutes. -grumble- But anyway! Yeah. Getting new glasses in a week. Won't be blind anymore. And so sorry this chapter is so rushed! If I wanted, this chapter could have easily spread over two chapters if I'd drawn out more. So, yeah, you can tell the parts I wrote tonight... Okay! I'll begin work ASAP on next chapter and hopefully have it done by Wednesday. Oh, btw? I did some research today, but couldn't do enough to find out what I was looking for. I am just going to guess that Winry's birthday is in the early winter, so Edo is a few months older than she is. If you don't like how I have it set up, oh well. I acted on a whim;
Advertisements! Don't we love them? Shiruba Neko has a new story out! It is called "Brothers," and it's very good. It is a sequel to her story "Illness," so if you go read "Brothers," be sure you read "Illness" first or you will be lost. Then Isis has a new story, as previously mentioned, called"Full Metal Amnesia." Then I still need to finish editing Asha's chapter for "Impossible." But go read those stories! All of Shura's, and Isis's, then Asha's "Impossible." Enjoy!
Chapter 10: I Love You
It was one week later when the phone rang. What was so important about the phone call, you may wonder? Well, six days before, Edward had stopped in at the station after taking Winry shopping and put a watch on Quintus and Primus. So, all week, he had been stressing the watch. You can only imagine how many times he'd snapped and yelled at Al and Winry, and how many times Winry had shouted right back because of it.
But anyway, back to the present. Edward raced to the phone since he just had a feeling it would be for him, and would be important. Then he swore when he saw Winry talking. He looked at her pointedly.
When she noticed him, she smiled and mouthed, "It's the station," then went right on talking.
He growled and walked up to her, a determined look on his face. "Give me the phone." Each word was clipped short and the building frustration was obvious in his voice. "Now," he added when she held up her hand for a minute.
"Fine. Mr. Hughes, Edward is about to blow a gasket. Yes, I know... Thank you." She smiled and a light rose tint stained her cheeks. Edward stopped his metal foot. "Here's Ed."
He took the phone and watched her start walking away. When she started towards the stairs, he stopped her. "Wait, I won't be long. I need to talk to you," he told her. Then he brought the phone to his ear. "What do you have for me that you couldn't call my cell phone?"
"I just wanted to hear her voice," Hughes said. "But I do have news for you." There was a rustling sound like he was moving papers around.
Ed sighed and looked at Winry again. "On second thought, get me a drink. It might take a bit." She stared at him from the bar stool she'd appropriated for herself. He rolled his eyes. "Please?" he mouthed. Still, she stared. Mentally, Ed could feel her telling him to say it out loud. He stared back at her, not willing to relent. No one could make him say please. It was all up to how thirsty he was, now.
"Aha!" Hughes exclaimed loudly enough for Ed to pull the phone away. "That watch you put on your friend and Miss Rockbell's butler? I have an update on them."
Edward smiled victoriously. "Let me hear it." He cast a glance back at Winry and moved to get glass as Hughes rambled the news to him. The golden haired man continued starting at her as he pulled the juice container out of the fridge and poured his own drink. "Eight tonight?" he asked happily, though he looked a little displeased. "Let me get that address." He turned to write on the conveniently placed pad of paper on the refrigerator. "All right. Thanks, Hughes."
"So," the older man said conversationally, "you sound happy today. When's the wedding?"
Ed grinned dryly. "In your dreams, Hughes," he said and hung up promptly. Then he looked at Winry with a serious gaze. He took his juice in hand as he walked over to the bar and leaned on his elbows. He kept leaning forward until he was a breath away from her face. "What are you doing tonight?" he asked her quietly.
He could tell she was struggling to answer. "Nothing. What ever you're doing," she tried.
"Good. Dress for the town," he said and pulled away. Then he sprinted up the stairs, his juice in hand once more. Even when Winry yelled at him at the foot of the stairs, he didn't stop. He had a date to plan.
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Winry looked at the outfits on her bed with dismay. She had no clue how to dress for the evening. When he'd told her to "dress for the town," she hadn't known which "town" he meant. The seedy ghetto or an expensive café? She knew to expect the wild and spontaneous from Edward. But she never knew which wild and spontaneous to expect. It was confusing.
So, there she stood, contemplating what to wear. The clothes she had picked out were on her bed as the following: a short, black skirt two inches above her knees, a gray spaghetti, felt strap shirt, and a denim jacket; a black sleeveless dress with a shawl; or a black tank top that was slightly transparent near the bust, a dark green, corduroy skirt, and the denim jacket from the first outfit. And she just didn't know what to wear. It was a quarter to seven, too, and if their date had anything to do with his phone call, it would be less than an hour that they had to leave to be wherever he had to be.
Then, to add to her stress, there was a curt knock on her door. "Winry, are you ready yet?" Ed yelled from the hall.
Hah! Ready? She was standing in the middle of her room in a little less than a dressing gown, with no makeup on. "No! It would help if I knew where I was going," she shouted at him.
"Just wear something," he told her and obviusly ran off because there was no response when she cursed at him.
So Winry shut her eyes, turned in three circles, and pointed. When she opned her eyes, it was at the third set of clothes. She sighed and quickly dressed. Ed knocked again when she was applying makeup. She swore at him once more rather foully. Then as she was playing with her hair, she allowed herself to wonder at their evening. Did it mean anything? Or did he just want her with him while he was at work so he wouldn't get bored? Did she want the night to mean something? Did she care? Did it matter to her?
So many questions, so little time.
And those kisses... He hadn't kissed her in a week, not so surprisingly. Had they meant anything to him? Or had they just been spur of the moment things that held no consequences to him? Or did he wonder about them, too? And why was Winry just sitting there, playing with her hair, when she could be asking him in person, getting direct answers rather than guessing?
So, Winry slipped on some ankle boots and dashed out of the room. She figured he was paying for the night, but she still grabbed her purse in case he decided to go Dutch. And then she hurried down the stairs, into the kitchen, and finally to the entrance hall with the full intent of grilling him with questions.
But any questions she'd had in her mind died on her tongue when she saw him.
Edward was leaning against the door a little nonchalantly, staring down at the floor. But Winry could tell he was at least a little unsettled by the way he was so distant. Otherwise, he was very, very good looking tonight. He wore his usual black boots; fitted black jeans that she suspected complimented him very well indeed in certain places; and a navy blue button-up shirt, tucked-in and left open a little past his collar bone. His hair was in the usual braid, but looked a little softer than normal. It made Winry's fingers itch to touch his golden locks.
'Very, very good' was the understatement of the year. Sexy as she'd get out? Heck yeah, that about fit him.
"You ready?" Winry heard him ask her.
She looked into his eyes and smiled. "Yeah."
"You look nice," he told her, taking her coat from the coat tree and helping her into it. Then he grabbed his own coat, slid his arms into that, and opened the door for her.
Winry was almost a little too shocked to respond, or else she would have already. Such good manners he was displaying, yet he refused to say please. "You look..." she struggled for a decent, fitting, not embarrassing word, "...handsome," she managed at last. She hurried outside so the chilly air would be an excuse for her suddenly rosy cheeks.
Ed laughed at her as he pulled the door shut and locked it. "I try, thanks." Then before Winry could say anything, he was beside her and had taken one of her hands. "Cold out tonight," he murmured and led her to his car.
"Yeah." She wanted to ask him about his phone call and if he was just dragging her along in case the waiting became too much or if she really meant something to him. Al had told her Ed really did like her, but as what? A girlfriend? A person? Or just a fling? She wouldn't stand to be a fling. She wasn't so free with herself. Guys were so confusing.
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It was seven-fifteen when Edward finished swearing at his car after parallel parking in front of a small restaurant. He was feeling a little nervous about having Winry with him for two reasons, thus the ample swearing at his poor car. Doing the right things on a first date wasn't begging his dire attention at the moment. He was there to catch Quintus and Primus scheming something against Winry. Ed didn't know if things would get dirty or not and it was a big chance that they would. It wouldn't do if Winry got caught in the middle of a fray of gunshots and lost a finger or something. He had only brought Winry with him because she seemed so stir crazy again. And he wanted to spend some time with her in an environment or two he was familiar with. They'd gone shopping last week, but he'd only carried bags and given neutral comments about certain outfits. Now this... This was his area in life.
When they entered the dimly lit restaurant, Edward was greeted by name and promptly led to a corner of the floor with a good view of the entire place. It wasn't far from the kitchens, but still a good distance away so Ed could enjoy his meal in peace.
Menus were brought to them in due time. Winry was silent for once, taking in the view. Ed looked around as well, deciding to reminisce. The walls were a deep red, painted to look like marble. The ceiling looked beige, but the few, low-wattage lights hanging from the ceiling didn't reveal much. The furnishings had cushions in warm colors and dark wood framing them. It had an earthy, cozy feeling to it all. Edward found it to be a very relaxing atmosphere. Relaxing and, he smiled faintly when he looked at Winry, romantic.
"What?" she asked when she noticed his gaze.
He shook his head. "Nothing. Do you know what you want yet?" he questioned, leaning forward a little.
Winry looked at the menu again and paused. "No. What about you?"
"I'm kind of a regular, though I haven't been here in a long time. They know my preferences," Ed told her easily. "In fact, the owner should be coming out pretty soon. Believe it or not, this place is very...what's the word? Well, it brings in a lot of money, despite its size." The restaurant was in three parts: the kitchen in the very back, separated by a wall and had swinging doors; then there was the smoking section in one long half; and the non-smoking section on the other. The length of the sections was probably one hundred yards or so. It wasn't a very big restaurant, but it was roomy enough.
"Really? You know the owner?" Winry asked, suddenly excited.
Ed grinned a little. "Yeah. He's a kind of strange person; very worldly, so ignore him if he tries to hit on you," he warned.
"Oh, like you don't do the same at home," she retorted, smirking so he would hear her humor.
Before he could respond, the kitchen door swung open very elaborately and a tall man with spiky hair, brown came out. He looked a little out of place in the nice restaurant in his sleeveless, fur-trimmed vest, leather biker pants, and spiked bracelets, but that was all right. He was the owner; he was allowed to do what ever he wanted. "Edward Elric," the man exclaimed, walking over to his table. Two waiters followed with two separate dishes. There was something distant in his voice, but it didn't bother Ed.
"Mr. Secundus," he said in much the same tone as the older man. "It's been a while." He leaned back against the booth when the waiters set the dishes down before him and Winry. Ed looked at the waiters and smirked. It had been over six months since he'd been there and the waiters were still the same. The one placing Ed's food in front of him was a tall, very buff man with white hair. The other waiter with Winry's dinner had very blond hair that was slicked back to a type of point. It made him look dangerous over silly because he had an angular face with hard features. From the corner of Ed's eye, he saw a woman with very short, light hair who was moving with very fluid grace. She was serving wine to someone, but tripped as she stopped to put the bottle on the table. The bottle toppled to the side at first, but righted itself. However, the wine glasses weren't so fortunate. One tipped off the edge, but the woman quickly reached out to catch it successfully.
Winry leaned forward and hissed in a stage whisper, "We didn't order yet."
"I could tell you wanted fettuccini alfredo," Secundus told her off-handedly then returned his attentions to Edward. "Who's this?" Well, most of his attentions.
Ed grinned. "My friend, Winry Rockbell," he said. Then he saw Winry look up quickly at the use of 'friend'. He'd been meaning to have the talk with her, but hadn't found a good time. He would definitely bring it up tonight, maybe on the way home.
Secundus looked at Winry. "Winry Rockbell as in the newly famous opera singer?" he asked. "How did you end up with a guy like Elric?" The man placed his hands on the table and looked between them. Automatically, Edward looked at his friend's hand and almost fell over in shock. If he hadn't had the firm hold on the table, he probably would have. There it was, the tattoo...
Winry smiled a little coldly at Edward then discarded some frost when she looked at Secundus. "Through work. And he decided to take me out to dinner tonight," she answered smoothly. Ed blessed her creativity on answering now because he didn't know if the man was in on the scheme, as well, or if it was just some freak coincidence he had that tattoo on his left hand. If there was the connection Ed was suspecting between Quintus, Primus, and the camera in the spider, then Edward could readily include Secundus in that connection now.
And that made Edward feel a little uneasy now. Was this some sort of conspiracy? First had been Quintus being his girlfriend and she was in on this. Now, one of his good friends was in on it? Winry's butler, too. Wow, what next? His boss's boss, too? Now that would be funny. If that happened, then Edward would flip, and Roy would...well, Roy would report that, have the guy thrown in jail, then very promptly proceed to reach that same status. Then all would be right with the world.
"Edward, are you all right?" Winry reached over and touched his shoulder. His right shoulder.
He immediately jerked away on instinct, then gave her a slightly apologetic look. He wasn't used to touch, much less people touching his metal arm. "Yeah, why?" he said, taking a bite of his chicken parmesan.
"You were shivering," she said like she knew that there was something wrong.
He sent her a warning look then looked at Secundus. "It is a little chilly in here. What are you doing, trying to kill us?" Edward asked the man in a knowing way.
Secundus wore a similar look that held a few more secrets. "Maybe. The world wouldn't miss you, would it?" he asked. "I'll go turn the air down a little." The man had a very peculiar expression when he turned away. Edward later described it as possibly remorseful for everything that had happened.
"Edward, what is wrong?" Winry asked quietly when Secundus was gone.
Ed shrugged and took another bite of his dinner. "Just a hunch," he lied. It was only a white lie. It really was a hunch with a lot of evidence.
"Yeah, right," she rolled her eyes.
"Just eat your fettuccini alfredo or I'll make you pay," he promised, much to the contrary of his previous phrase. "And believe me, Secundus is rather steep on his prices. The cheapest item on his menu is coffee, and that's five dollars a cup." Winry looked a little shocked, but went on eating in somewhat silence.
Edward mulled while he ate. Secundus was a friend, albeit a little distant and cold for one, but still a friend. Edward would be a little grieved if the man was in line with Quintus and Primus. Oh, there was that one other person that hung with Quintus...an inhuman looking thing, but Edward had metal limbs. He wasn't really one to judge the definition of humanity. He jogged his memory to remember the man's name. Quartarius. It was Latin.
"Edward?"
"Yeah?" He looked at Winry after dragging himself from his thoughts.
"Is this a date?" she asked, looking at him questioningly.
Again, if Edward hadn't been holding onto something, he probably would have fallen over. She had to ask? Had she ever been on a date in her life? If she had to ask, it was a fair bet that she hadn't. But before he went on and answered her question, he didn't want to jump the gun on anything. "If you want it to be," he said. Then he thought that over and almost kicked himself.
"Do you want it to be?" Yeah, he was kicking himself rather hard now.
But instead of inflicting actual pain on himself, Ed rolled his eyes at Winry. "I asked you first," he muttered, feeling rather childish. He'd played these games before and knew that the only way he would get out alive was if he answered what he thought and was either mauled or tackled in a giant hug.
"You called me a friend; that doesn't imply a date." Was she going to use reverse psychology? If that was the case, then Ed could play it right back.
So he pushed his mostly empty plate forward and looked at Winry. "And you gave me the coldest look ever formed. I think I have frostbite on my--"
"Edward!"
"What? I was going to say ankle!" he argued. "Get your mind out of where it shouldn't be, Winry Rockbell," he scolded. "And I think you want this to be a date. That's why I have frostbite in weird places." He watched her squirm at the truth suddenly shoved at her. "Am I right?"
She shrugged and looked around. "Yes," she mumbled, almost too quiet for Ed to hear.
Then Edward surprised himself. He reached out and took her hand. "Then it's a date," he told her softly. He came to himself again after that, but knew it would be unfair and confusing if he suddenly shoved her hand away after telling her that this was a date. "Finish your dinner." Now he let go of her hand.
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It was about twenty minutes later, fifteen minutes to eight, when Edward led Winry through a back alley behind the restaurant. She was a little uneasy, even with the knowledge of Ed's occupation, going through the dark. And since it had been snowing later, the snow had an eerie glow from the small amount of light coming through the clouds and buildings. She would never admit to anyone that she was afraid of the dark. No, she'd give up her vocal chords first. Which reminded her about all the songs she needed to write. Since Edward had come into her life, she hadn't had much time to write her lyrics and come up with the general tune she wanted. Never mind that she could probably live for quite a few decades off of what she had now.
"What is this place?" she asked. "It's kind of out of the way."
Ed looked back at her, since he was kind of pulling her along after him down the alley. "A nightclub." And when he said that, the club music could be heard through the brick walls before them. He suddenly stopped a few yards from the door, turned, and gave Winry an inquisitive look. "You are twenty-one, right?" he asked.
She paused. Then she squirmed. "I...will be twenty-one soon enough." Just a few more days, she told herself, which were equivalent of a few weeks. But, no one else had to know that, right? Maybe Edward knew the people who ran this place, too, and could get her in, no problem. Didn't stuff like that happen all the time? There were probably tons of people who got into clubs nightly and they were at least eighteen. So what if it was breaking the law? She'd done it before; she could and probably would do it again tonight.
"Okay. Well, you're not drinking anything. Remember, I am a cop," Edward reminded her.
Winry smirked when he pulled her to the door. "A corrupt one," she commented. She would refrain from further words to describe him because she would likely embarrass herself.
In a few short minutes and some quick talking, Edward and Winry were stepping into the nightclub. Music was playing loudly and pulsing the air around them. The atmosphere was very unlike the restaurant; the air was damp and slightly stale. Then, there was the smell of alcohol faintly. Winry followed her nose - and Edward - over to the bar. He was pulling her behind him again, squeezing through the throng of people near the bar. Upon reaching the crowded area, Edward somehow effectively removed two people from two barstools for them. Winry smirked in amusement.
He said something and gestured at the seat, but she couldn't hear his words for the music. "What?" she said loudly.
"I said," he began to repeat, " 'a seat for the lady!' " Then he gestured more towards the seat again.
"Oh." She moved to slide up on her own, but felt Edward's hands around her waist, lifting her up onto the seat. She blushed a little and looked at him discretely. There was a slight color on his cheeks, but it could have been from the cold outside. Winry, however, felt compelled to believe it was from his unexpected action from the way he was frozen in place, his hands still on her waist, with a bit of a confused look on his face. "Edward?"
He literally jumped back into motion. "Yeah? Oh." He slid up to his barstool and leaned forward. "Oi!" he shouted, getting the bartender's attention. "A soda for the girl and I'll take a glass of scotch."
The bartender nodded and was off to do his tending of the bar duty. Winry looked at Ed. "Am I driving home, then?" she asked, turning so she could face him better.
He glanced at her then leaned on one arm so he could see her better. "No. I have a high tolerance for alcohol and can walk in a straight line after drinking six shots of tequila," he boasted.
"Really," she drawled, unimpressed. "I assume you've tried it before?" She wasn't expecting him to answer, only to give her some type of look then wait impatiently for their drinks.
Instead, Edward did give her a challenging look. He quirked his eyebrows at her momentarily with a bit of a smile. "You bet I did. With my friends, too," he answered as their drinks arrived. He lifted the shot glass to her.
Winry waited until he had the scotch in his mouth before speaking. "You have friends? I didn't know that," she said, opening her soda and pouring it in the glass in front of her.
Edward looked like he was about to choke, but quickly downed the amber alcohol. "Yeah, I have friends. I have, let's see..." He held out his hand and started counting on his fingers. Then he held up four fingers. "I have four friends." Then he laughed.
The only thing Winry thought of at the moment was alcohol was a personality enhancer. Edward wasn't as immune to alcohol as he though he was. She was about to see Edward Elric in full swing of his laid-back personality. "Who are your four friends?" she wanted to know.
"Alphonse, Hughes, and Armstrong," he muttered.
"What about your boss?" She took a sip of her soda.
"Screw him."
Winry laughed. "That isn't very nice. What about the fourth?"
"You."
Words deserted her. At a time like this, words deserted her. Why, God, why! Then, a godsend.
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"Come on, let's dance," Ed took her hand as he slipped off the barstool. He pulled her hand gently, but she didn't move. When she didn't move, Edward looked back at her strangely. "What is it?" She mumbled something under her breath that was impossible to hear over the music. "What?" Ed took a step closer to her.
Winry leaned forward and put her mouth close to his ear. "I can't dance to this music," she told him in an embarrassed, hissing whisper.
It took a moment for Edward to realize what she'd said, but when it hit him, it took a bit for him to keep from laughing. So he dropped her hand and turned to her fully. "Can you move your hips?" he asked as he placed his hands just below her waist and pulled her off the barstool.
She looked a little startled at first, but nodded. "Yes, a bit," she said finally.
Ed flashed her a smile and grabbed her hand again. "Good. Come on." Then he yanked her out to the middle of the club floor and, once he found a spot, let the music begin to course through his veins like the very blood there.
And as Ed was moving to the beat of the music, Winry looked a little lost. "What do I do?" she pleaded with her eyes.
"Just move. You hear the beat?" She nodded. "Find your rhythm – move your hips, girl – find your rhythm and just move." Edward watched her struggle with finding her rhythm. Then he sighed loudly. "Oi, Lanie!" he yelled over the music.
"Who's Lanie?" Winry asked, ceasing all movement.
"Get over here!" Ed yelled. "Friend of mine. She can dance," he said to Winry. In seconds, Lanie was standing before them. She was chewing gum and had an expression that said she, quite frankly, didn't care about much.
"Yeah?" She pushed her dark hair behind her ear.
Ed grinned. "Help my friend figure out how to dance," he requested.
Lanie smirked and looked at Winry. "Show me what you can do, first of all," she said, cracking her gum.
Winry stood there, staring at the tan-skinned woman. She blinked once or twice, but that was about it. Then she cast a pleading look at Ed. "Can I just go sit down while you have fun?"
"No. Wasn't this a date? Learn how to dance," Ed commanded.
Lanie laughed. "Okay, so just watch me. We'll start simple." She swayed her hips to the music and looked at Winry expectantly. The blond woman reluctantly followed the example. "Good!" Lanie smiled genuinely.
Ed watched them just sway for about a song and a half. Since he had been paying attention to the people in the club, looking for a couple certain people, he'd lost track of when he'd started really dancing until he stopped between songs for a breather. Sweat was beginning to make an appearance along his hairline. When the next song came on, a kind of reggae-like beat, Lanie proceeded with her instruction.
"Okay. Try moving your arms now," she said and began to lift her hands above her head.
Winry froze. "I thought I was moving my arms."
Lanie chuckled and grabbed Winry's wrists. "Up." There was a great contrast between Winry's pale skin and Lanie's well-tanned color as she lifted the blonde's hands above her head. "Keep them there and just follow me," she directed. Lanie twirled her wrists around and then just began to visibly lose track of movement. "Just move to the music, honey," she told Winry when she noted the slightly older woman's puzzled and lost expression.
Winry nodded and did begin to 'just move.' Ed smiled at her when she glanced his way, causing her to blush a little. He winked at her. Then something else caught his attention. Lanie danced towards him and he soon lost himself in the movement and the closeness of the young woman who was under the same spell. When they finally surfaced at the end of the song, he looked at Winry, who had a very putout expression on her face. She'd ceased almost all movement, except for a little swaying of her hips. Ed frowned.
"I need a drink," he said to the girls. He really didn't; he just wanted to see what Winry would do.
"All right," Lanie said. She turned to Winry. "I'll teach your girl a few more moves then I gotta jet. My mom expects me home soon." She smiled and looked at Winry.
Edward, who was now having one of the rare moments where he appreciated his height, walked towards the bar but hid behind a very tall-to-Edward man. There was something peculiar about the man, but Ed shoved the feeling away and began his eavesdropping. What he heard slightly surprised him.
"You jealous much?" Lanie asked Winry.
The blond woman flinched in surprise. "What?"
Lanie smiled in a friendly manner. "You looked like you wanted to kill me when I was dancing with Edward," she pointed out.
"N-No, I was just—"
Lanie laughed a little and touched Winry's arm. "Please. I felt ice. But don't get upset; he and I are kind of like siblings. Go for him. I can tell you like him a lot."
Winry didn't respond. Ed decided to come to a rescue and walked back over. "Okay," he said. "It was great to see you, Lanie," he said and patted her shoulder.
She smiled. "You too, Ed. And it was great to meet you, Winry," she smiled, embraced the woman and kissed her cheek. Then she did the same for Ed and ran off, still with the beat.
Winry still looked a little upset visibly. Although Ed knew why, he still asked. "What's wrong?" He tried to touch her cheek. She turned away.
"Nothing."
"Liar. You know where liars go?" He grinned and danced a little closer to her.
"Well, you lie plenty. So I guess we're going to hell together." She scowled.
He scoffed like he just figured out what she was upset about. "Are you upset that I was dancing with Lanie?" he asked, trying to sound incredulous. He was met with silence. "Win, we're only friends. And she's very impulsive." He tipped Winry's chin up. She looked a little shocked. "What?"
"Are you drunk yet? You just called me 'Win.' "
He shook his head and laughed as the song changed to a slow techno beat. "Winry, I—" He started to speak, but a very drunk person bumped into Winry and sent her falling against Ed. He caught her gently and glared at the man. "Walk much?" he shouted to be heard.
The man tried to glare as well, but was too inebriated. "You better watch your mouth, buddy," he slurred, "or we'll settle this outside."
Ed pulled his badge out of his pocket. "What? I couldn't hear you." He rolled his eyes when the man went away, muttering. "Jerk. I should arrest him since he's probably gonna be driving." He looked at Winry. "You okay?" She nodded. "You wanna dance?"
Winry looked at him like he'd offered her death. "I still can't dance," she said gently.
"Sure you can," he told her. "If you can slow dance, you can do this."
She sighed. "Fine. What do I do?"
He smiled and turned her around. Then he pulled her back against him gently. "Just move," he breathed in her ear, "with me. He placed his hands on her waist to keep from running off in surprise and began to move with the music.
For Ed, there wasn't much to dancing. He found his inner rhythm and let himself go. There was no set way he danced—he moved how he felt. If he felt alive and hyper, then he often began to sweat after one or two songs. If he felt depressed, he found a quiet, dark corner and swayed. Occasionally, he'd dance with a random chick. But, he hadn't been clubbing in a long time, so he was a little rusty in his moves. No one would guess, though, unless they'd known him before when he would go every weekend. It had been a good source of exercise for him, outside the police work. Then he'd become a work-a-holic. Which wasn't bad, because he'd found Winry. But he'd secretly suffered. He'd become antisocial, depressed, angry, and all those other emotions a psychiatrist would have a field day diagnosing. But since he'd met Winry, it had all changed. He'd felt so many things he'd forgotten he could feel. It was kind of unbelievable.
In fact, one new emotion had begun to surface that night. He was beginning to fall in love with Winry.
