Disclaimer: I don't own FMA or anything original from it, not do I own the song Picture by Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow, or I'll Be Home For Christmas.

Author's Note: Yay! A chapter! See, in all it's shiny updated glory. Hope you all likey.

Chapter 20: Picture (I'll Be Home For Christmas)


For the next few nights, Winry cried herself to sleep. She hadn't expected to be so upset over his absence; the tears had been very unexpected the first night. The second night, she'd been scolding herself for being so emotional over someone being so selfish and immature. By the third night, she'd stopped being surprised, but not feeling stupid. On the fourth night, she'd just accepted that she was sad and angry that he was gone. The fifth night, that night, it was eleven o'clock and tears had yet to come. Winry personally felt it was a vast improvement. Maybe she was really starting to accept things easier.

Accept what, though? She'd done a lot of thinking about their relationship, or what ever it was they had. On what was there, she couldn't think of horribly much, aside from those occasional kisses from him and her feelings. But for what wasn't there, it almost made Winry feel bad for actually saying that they had a relationship. But it was mostly on Edward. Winry tried her best to be a girlfriend, inexperienced at it as she was. She knew Edward had had relationships in the past and that bothered her.

Winry knew that, in his previous relationships, there had been affection and communication and...and everything they didn't have! She sniffed and swiped at her nose softly. Why was she any different from the other girls he'd been with? Was she not as special? Was she more special? What was it?

Slowly, Winry sat up and turned on the lamp. She reached for the phone and the crinkled sheet of paper. She stared down at the numbers, deep in thought.

Earlier in her hellish few days, Ed had called with his hotel and room number. Winry had listened in again, putting the phone on mute that time. Edward had given the information to Al and waited for his brother to hang up. Winry had waited, too, to hear the second click or a dial tone, but neither had come. Instead, she had heard Edward's voice.

"You can call me, too, if you need to," he'd told her sullenly. She'd replied nastily, but the mute button had still been on, thankfully. "Goodbye, Winry."

She fought back a pitiful sob. How could he tell she'd been there? She hadn't made any noise. Maybe he'd just guessed? But how? She wanted to tell herself that he did care for her, and he had some sixth sense when she was near or something. But that was too far fetched for even her to believe. She settled for him just being Edward. That was it.

Winry continued to stare at the paper, like she'd done many a time over the past two days. She'd been trying to work up the courage to call him, just to say "hi" or something. But whenever she'd go to dial the first number, her hands would become so shaky it'd be hard for her to even hold the phone. That had been sign enough that she couldn't do it. But that night, she would! She'd call him and...what would she do? Beg him to come home? Confess her undying love—again—and tell him she needed him? That wouldn't do. He probably didn't want to hear that. It was eleven-fifteen; he was probably sleeping.

Oh well.

So, with a sigh, Winry punched the buttons into the phone with a slightly steady hand and brought it to her ear. It rang a few times, long enough for her to lose her nerve again. She was about to hang up when a sleepy voice answered with, "This is Jacob at Central Motel, what do you need?"

Winry stammered for a few seconds. "Could you, ah, could you connect me to room twenty-four?" she asked finally. She was beginning to shake all over and her throat was aching from the tightness. Would she be able to even talk to him?

"Hold on just a minute." The line clicked and, in a few short seconds (too short, it seemed), there was ringing again.

Winry took a very deep breath and let it out slowly. She could do this. She could talk to him. It was just Edward. She'd talked to him plenty of times, right? What was so different this time?

Was it that she was feeling heartbroken and in pieces?

The phone kept ringing, and Winry was beginning to think he wouldn't answer until she heard a loud clattering noise. Then she heard a familiar curse that made her heart warm. Pathetic? Yes. In love? Oh yeah. That was her Edward.

"Hello?" he muttered sleepily.

Winry's breath quickened. "Hello, Edward," she said softly, trying not to sound completely pitiful.

There was a pause, in which she wondered if he had gone back to sleep. But she knew better; he was gathering his surroundings. "Winry?" She made a small noise in acknowledgment and imagined him sitting bolt upright. "What is it? What's wrong?" he asked, sounding fully alert now.

Winry smiled a little to herself. "Nothing's wrong," she replied quietly. "I just...I wanted to talk to you." She heard blankets rustle as he laid back down. Then he swore again.

"God, Winry...you scared me." He took a deep breath. "What time is it?"

She bit back tears. "A little after eleven." God help her, she was going to cry. She was just so happy! He was talking to her, almost like he used to talk to her.

Apparently, Ed heard the emotion in her voice because he sighed. "Winry, what's wrong?" he asked again, sounding genuinely concerned.

There was nothing else to tell him but the truth, she figured. "I miss you," she managed over her emotion. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, but she wasn't sobbing. That was a good thing.

There was silence. Winry sniffled a little, trying to stop the tears. They were silent for a solid minute before Ed broke the silence. "I miss you, too," he whispered.

"Come home," she said impulsively. "Please." She took a deep breath, still trying to calm herself down. It was just Edward, she reminded herself. And he would still do whatever he wanted, never minding anyone else's plans or requests. "Please," she breathed. But she still had to try.

Winry heard him shivering. He seemed at a momentary loss for words. Was he still angry with her? She wouldn't apologize, but she did feel bad for forcing the information out of him. "I can't," he finally murmured.

Winry bit back the reaction to shout. She breathed again. "Why not?"

"I just...I can't, Winry. Not yet. Give me a couple more days, all right? I promise I'll be home before Christmas," he told her.

"I want to see you," she whispered. "I want to see you so badly, but Al won't let me go." A sob was working its way up, but Winry fought it. She wouldn't sob on the phone with Edward. He was probably getting frustrated enough as it was with her crying in his ear.

He sighed. "I'm sorry. I can't do anything about that," Edward murmured. "Winry, just..."

"Are you going to stay until the twentieth?" she asked, her voice wobbly.

A pause. "I don't know."

Winry bit her lip. She wanted to tell him to come home and they would talk, work things out. But she knew he'd hang up on her. There were so many things she wanted to tell him, but she just couldn't. But there was one thing she could tell him...one thing she knew would touch him, no matter what. "I love you," she murmured.

She imagined him nodding a little. "I know, Winry, I know," he replied, just as softly. "I'll be home soon, okay?"

"Okay," she said through tears.

"Good night, Winry. Go to sleep."

She smiled. "Good night, Edward." She heard him hesitate to hang up, but eventually, the click came.

Instead of feeling despair that he was probably across town in some shabby hotel washing over her, Winry felt at peace, with Edward and herself. Finally, she had worked out some of their problems. But Lord knew that they had tons of others.

That night, as Winry's head hit Edward's pillow, she slept peacefully.


Al sighed two nights after Winry's phone call to Edward. Of course, Al was only faintly aware of the call. He'd heard Winry talking, but could have assumed she was talking in her sleep. And he wasn't sighing because he'd just taken his last Vicodin, either. (Edward had "lost" a few of them, or so he claimed.) No, Al was sighing because he was worried about his brother and Winry's relationship. He didn't want to become an uncle, and he really didn't think Ed was ready to become a father. Though he had no proof whether they had, well...done anything, they were sharing a bed. That was all Al needed to worry.

And that's what he would have asked his brother the other day, if he hadn't lost his nerve. Yes, he had problems talking to his brother about certain things; the accident, why his right arm was different from his left (though he had his suspicions), and Edward's relationship with Winry. Those were just a few of the things. There were a couple other objects to discuss, but they never really bothered Al unless he was presented with the obstacle.

So, with the question of their relationship on his mind, Al went to Edward's room and knocked. It was kind of late, and he hoped Winry wasn't asleep. He knew she was very upset about Ed's departure, but he hadn't had enough pluck to talk to her about it. Al wasn't upset, he was nervous. He knew where all the firearms were located throughout the house, and he knew how to use them. He just wasn't sure if he could, if the time came that he had to.

"Come in," Winry called from within.

Al opened the door slowly. When he saw Winry, he noticed she wasn't looking as sad as she had in the past couple days, which was a good sign. But then it could also be bad...he didn't want her to get hopes up about something that wouldn't happen. Exactly what she could get her hopes up about concerning Edward, who knew? But she obviously believed there was something. However, Al wouldn't dash whatever happiness she'd managed to find in the past few dark days.

"What's up, Al?" she asked. She looked up from the papers she was reading. They were obviously Ed's, and she'd obviously been cleaning because the desk in the far corner was no longer a pile of papers, but had a few neat stacks.

"I, ah, have a question," he began, sitting on the edge of the bed. "And I'm not quite sure how to ask, really."

Winry smiled a little, though he could tell she was confused. "Well, I have an answer, but I'm not quite sure how to tell you, really." She laughed.

Al found it hard to believe that he'd revered her as someone better than he was just two months ago. Not that he was dissing her or anything, but he'd just had her seeming so...unreal that, when he'd met her, it had been a big shock to get to know her. But now, he could talk with her like they were ordinary friends with ordinary lives.

They may have been friends, but their lives were far from ordinary at the moment. In so many ways their lives were pushing extraodrinary, Al didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"What is it?" Winry asked, smiling encouragingly. He knew it was hard for her to smile at the moment and he praised her for being able to do so.

"I'm worried about Edward," Al began. He held up his hand so Winry wouldn't speak yet. "And you. Both of you." He nodded, thinking it was going well.

Winry looked at Al with an even more confused smile. "W-Why? Just because he's gone? You should know better than anyone else he'll be all right and come back when he's ready." She sounded very accepting of the situation, much on the contrary to the past couple days.

Al sighed. Why was it harder to say it? He'd played through the conversation numerous times in his head, and it suddenly wasn't going in the right direction. So he moved to stand up. "This is stupid," he mumbled.

Winry grabbed his hand. "Wait. Do you mean...are you asking if we've ever...?" She trailed off, blushing furiously.

Al felt uncomfortable now, but he nodded sheepishly.

A strained laugh escaped her throat, but Winry no longer looked confused. She looked like she was feeling a little more than awkward. "Um, no," she answered. "No, we've never done anything. I mean, he's kissed me a few times, but..." She shrugged with an embarrassed smile.

Al nodded, feeling embarrassed as well. "Right. Sorry." He stood up again. "Just asking." He made to leave, but Winry's voice, suddenly sober and calm, stopped him.

"But I do love him," she murmured.

Not having anything to say, really, Al nodded and left.


Winry sighed contentedly as she breathed the cold air in the park. She'd finally convinced Al to let her go outside, and she was supposed to be meeting Edward in a few minutes. She checked her watch. It was a few minutes until noon. When she'd called Edward the previous night after that awkward talk with Al, they had arranged to meet each other in the park and go for lunch somewhere, to talk things over. Edward, actually, had proposed the idea. That had left Winry stammering for speech. But anyway, there she was, waiting.

After about five minutes and still no Edward, Winry sighed. It was beginning to snow again. She didn't want to think that, if it had been summer, it would have been raining. It just wasn't fun to stand in the rain. Snow was okay, though. Just as long as it didn't start as a blizzard, she'd be fine.

People were starting to leave. She was getting nervous. Where was he? Al was across the street, watching her like a hawk. She could feel his eyes boring into her from behind. So she turned around so she could shrug about Edward's whereabouts. But she didn't see Alphonse in the window of the café. Where was he, then? Great, both men were missing. What was she going to do, now?

Winry was about to walk across the street when she felt someone's hand close over her mouth. The force from the pull made her fall backwards against that person's chest. She figured it was Edward playing a trick on her, but the person's chest against her back felt different; broader and stronger. Winry looked up a little and saw an angular face. She wanted to scream, but the hand over her mouth kept her from alerting someone to her distress.

"Winry," the person whispered harshly. The red eyes began to glare down at her. "Winry," he whispered again, but it sounded like Alphonse.


"Winry, wake up!"

Her eyes shot open from the dream to reveal Alphonse standing by the side of the bed with his hand over her mouth so she wouldn't shout. Winry looked at him with wide eyes and tried to speak, but it came out as garbled noises.

"Shh," he hissed, bringing his other hand to his mouth. "There's someone in the house."

Winry choked. Did he just say...there was someone in the house? As if to answer her unspoken question and back up Al's phrase, there was a crash from the kitchen. An alarmed yell tried to escape, but Al shushed her again.

"Be quiet," he advised when he let go of her mouth. Then he turned to the side table and opened the drawer quietly. Winry looked in and saw a handgun and a few extra clips for it. Some stray bullet were rolling around, as well. Al reached in and grabbed the gun and a clip, checked the amount of bullets, and then shoved the clip into the handle of the gun. "Get a coat."

Winry, too stunned to reply, only reacted and ran over to the closet. She forced herself not to panic. They were going to get out just fine, the gun was just a precaution. Al would wait until the person went into another room and then they'd run out, right? Right? When she looked at Al after she had found a coat, Winry saw the serious look on his face. She didn't know what he was planning, but she had a feeling she couldn't like it.

"Al?" she asked when he led her to the bedroom door. "What are you going to do?"

He shushed her once again and opened the door a little. "Just be quiet and do what I tell you," he murmured. He sounded like his brother. Just what Winry needed; two obnoxious, bossy men.

But she nodded, not in the mood to argue. So she waited for Al to take a lead. He peeked out of the door, then grabbed her hand. "Come on," he whispered and pulled her out with him into the hallway. "When I came in to wake you up, he was in the basement." He looked around. "Hopefully he's still down there."

The two ran out into the hallway and towards the living room. The door to the basement was directly to the left once they entered the living room. Winry saw Al look around the corner, listening attentively for any signs of life. When he heard none, he pulled her along with him towards the front door. But then a commanding voice stopped them.

"Stop," was all it took. Both, Al and Winry stopped in their tracks. Winry heard Al cock the gun and slowly turned around.

"Al," she whispered, touching his arm. He ignored her.

"What do you want?" Al asked, still keeping the gun at his side.

The intruder seemed to smirk. "Where is Edward Elric?" he wanted to know.

Winry gasped a little, but remembered that she was supposed to be quiet. She saw Al shrug. "I don't know," he said. "Who're you talking about?"

"I don't want to hurt anyone else, but as long as you are in my way," the man said, stepping out of a shadow in the kitchen, "I will be forced to kill you." Winry fell completely silent when she saw the silhouette of the man. He was huge! Broad shoulders, tall frame, muscular arms. His hair was spiky and looked like icicles growing off of his head, glowing in the late night moon behind him. He had the same build as the man in her dream. Maybe it had been an omen or warning?

"Go, Winry," Al murmured, shoving back at her.

She didn't think; she acted. Winry turned around and ran for the front door. Then she heard the man in the kitchen kick off from the tile towards Al. Faintly, the sound of Al raising the gun hit her ears, but she didn't stay around long enough to find out what happened. She ran outside towards the driveway. Edward had taken the car, of course. What now? Walk to get help? Winry looked around again in a panic, searching for anything that would assist her and Al. She saw nothing and cursed. What luck!

Then she heard creaking off towards the garage. She had never gone in the garage, since it had always been too cold, but the door was opening and she saw a lot of junk piled up. And, emerging from the depths of boxes and collected items, was Al, riding a motorcycle. He advanced it to Winry and tossed a second helmet to her. "Get on!" he shouted over the rumble of the engine.

Winry thought quickly and caught the helmet. Quickly, she pulled the helmet over her hair and straddled the little seat behind Al. She put her arms around his waist just in time as he revved the bike out of the driveway with squealing tires and burning rubber. The torque knocked her head back but she fought the force and put her cheek on Al's back as he turned corners wildly. She didn't have to guess where they were going. It was either the police station, Roy Mustang, or Ed's hotel. She was nervous about all of them.

Then, as she began to calm down from the very, very chilled air whipping her face under the helmet and flipping her hair around her, Winry began to wonder what on earth had gone on back at the house. It hadn't been some routine burglar; he'd specifically asked for Edward Elric. Who could it have been? The man had seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place where he would have been familiar from. But she was positive she'd seen him, somewhere, sometime. But where!

Would the man try to follow them? It was hard to keep up with a motorcycle, but there was something about the man that said he would find them eventually. Winry shivered at that thought, not even giving credit to the below-freezing temperatures biting her skin.

"Where are we going?" she asked Al when they stopped at a busy-for-that-time-of-night stop light.

Al rubbed his gloveless hands together and blew on them, waiting for the light to turn green. It was yellow on the other side. "You'll see," he said and leaned forward again. Winry held on tight and kept her head down. Very shortly after, Al took off, speeding through traffic almost madly. With as fast as they were going, it made the air seem much colder.

It was hard to breathe, and Winry had to hold her breath sometimes when the air was too cold to even take in. But eventually, she accustomed herself to a slow breathing pattern, allowing just the right amount of air into her lungs so it didn't hurt to take a breath. Focusing on her breathing entranced her so much that she lost track of her surroundings. What brought her back an indeterminate amount of time later was when Al went over a pothole quickly. She looked up and saw they were in a dingy part of Central. Not that Ed's neighborhood wasn't dingy enough, but still. This area was pushing the boundaries. Winry tried to avoid areas like these at all costs. God knew what was there, waiting.

Al pulled up in front a building with a shabby, worn-down exterior. The glass was intact, and there was a small light in one of them. Winry looked at the building for some type of way to establish what it was. Then her eyes trailed to a highly illuminated sign that read "Central Motel." Edward. His name whispered into her ears like the small breeze blowing in her hair. She made towards what she thought was the front, but Al grabbed her arm.

"This way," he said, inclining his head towards a covered corridor with a few lights dotting the walls. Winry shivered at the thought of being by herself, going down that line. But, she had Al with her. And he probably still had the gun.

Which reminded her. "Al, what happened back at the house? How did you get out?" she asked quietly, feeling suddenly claustrophobic. The hall was made up from doors on her right and thick trees on her left. Oh, the joy of being the person at the very end of the long corridor.

Al shook his head. "Wait a few minutes," he told her, his voice soft as well.

Winry nodded. He probably didn't want to have to tell the story twice in such a short period of time, since they were going to see Edward. She didn't blame Al. She didn't like telling stories over and over again. It was annoying. So she quieted herself for a while and began to count the numbers on the door. The numbers were even, and the two quiet figures were at door sixteen. If Winry remembered correctly, Ed was in room twenty-four, and that would be about four doors down. Anticipation rose up in her. She would get to see him again. It made her happy.

Then, her mood took a complete change of direction when they reached his door and Al rapped on it a few times. She felt suddenly angry with Edward for leaving them. It had been an incredibly selfish thing to do and it blew Winry away. So, she stepped in front of Al. As soon as the door opened and Ed appeared, she raised her hand and let it fly across his cheek. All three of them stood in quiet shock and astonishment until the tears welling in Winry's eyes spilled over her cheeks. Then she threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

"You're such a jerk, you know that?" she whispered hoarsely.

Al shut the door behind them all, locked it, and leaned against it silently.

Winry felt as Ed put his arms around her in a small hug. Then he pushed her back at arm's length. "That hurt," he murmured, meaning his face.

"You deserved it!" she told him incredulously. "How could you leave us?"

Edward shushed her and looked at Al. "Why are you guys here?" he asked, his voice still heavy with sleep.

Winry answered first. "Someone broke into the house!" she exclaimed angrily.

Al took his turn to shush her and took a step forward. "That guy Mustang told you to keep an eye out for, he showed up," he mumbled.

Ed swore and let go of Winry. "I was hoping he would lay off. I guess not." He dragged his hands through his hair. "Are you both all right?" he asked.

Winry and Al nodded. "Yeah. Just cold," Al said. "Since you have the car, we had to drive your motorcycle."

Ed snorted. "That thing hasn't been on the road in forever. I'm surprised the gas was still okay," he murmured. Then he looked at Al. "How did you guys get out? Was he unaware?"

Al sat down at the rickety looking table near the window. "He saw us before we got out, but I made Winry go outside. He'd asked for you, specifically, so I knew it was trouble. Once she was outside, I told him you were gone and probably wouldn't be back anytime soon. After that, he just left. But I didn't want to take a chance, so I went out through the garage." He nodded. "Then we were here."

Edward nodded as well, processing the information. "So, it looks like we're pressed for places to stay," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Winry stood off to the corner as the two brothers began discussing the important matters coming up. She wasn't really listening; she was too deep in her thoughts of mixed emotions. Seeing Edward again hadn't gone exactly as she'd thought. She had imagined him to be stoic and completely impassive to everything around him, especially to Winry. Instead, he was animatedly tossing out suggestions of what to do, looking as active as a person who had been roused from sleep in the middle of the night could. He would laugh occasionally as both brothers felt the wave of still being tired wash over them and they came up with slightly eccentric ideas. Winry even smirked a little, but sleepiness had claimed her quite a bit ago.

The adrenaline had worn off, leaving a drained feeling in its trail. So she closed her eyes and let Ed's and Al's voices become background noise to her slowly leaving consciousness. She felt suddenly more alert, despite her sleepiness. Her senses were heightened to the point where she could hear the heater buzzing across the room; the faucet in the bathroom was dripping; snow was tapping on the window behind her; and there was a draft just above her. A door closing suddenly brought her out of her trance-like state.

Winry gasped a little and opened her eyes. Once she focused her vision, she saw Edward sitting on the edge of the bed still, looking a little sullen and tired now. She went over to him and sat down beside him. They were both silent, and Winry took note that Al had left the room, either into the the bathroom or outside. Regardless, she and Ed were alone. It made her nervous.

"Edward," she murmured, still looking at the floor. He was silent. It wasn't very encouraging, especially when she wasn't at all sure how to go about talking to him now. She'd slapped him and hugged him, spoken a little, but hadn't really said anything of importance yet. What to say, what to say? Nothing of sheer substance came to her for a few moments, until, "I missed you," came out of her mouth.

Ed seemed to come out of a trance as he flinched a little. He put his hands behind him and leaned back, sighing a little. Winry frowned. Though she hadn't had much of a plan to begin with, this definitely wasn't part of it. She had expected Edward to respond, not ignore her. "Edward?"

Then he looked at her. "Sorry. I'm really tired," he told her, offering a sleepy smile. "Haven't slept much lately."

Winry nodded. "Oh, okay." Well, what could she say to that? She couldn't fuss at him for not being alert, but she could fuss about him not sleeping enough. She sighed. How she wanted to touch him, even just his hand to let him know she was really there. But she was so afraid to. She didn't know how he would respond to anything, since he was just so hard to read all the time. But, she knew never something until she tried. So, Winry took a chance and put her hand over his lightly.

Ed smiled at the ground. Then he looked at her, a sad expression in his eyes. "I'm sorry I left you guys," he murmured. "I didn't think that I'd be gone this long, or that anything would happen."

She smiled. "It's okay, Ed," she said, shifting so she was facing him. She was about to add something when he frowned. "What?"

"Your hands are like ice," he told her, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand.

Winry shrugged. "No gloves," she admitted. She could have made a snide remark, linking her cold hands to his absence, but she decided that it was no time for her to try to crack jokes. When he stood up, she decided to ask a question. "What are our plans? I wasn't really listening earlier."

Ed laughed a little. "I know you weren't. You looked just as out of it as I feel," he said jokingly. Then he shook his head. "We'll talk about it tomorrow. We all just need to get some sleep for now."

With a little bit of a frown, Winry stood up and walked over to Edward. She joined hands with him again. She spared him a brief glance before leaning against him gently, just for the sake of bearing near him. Oh, she'd had missed him so much, but now that they were together, she was lost on what to do or say. But if all else failed, she thought, she could always do for silence. It was not always a bad thing.

"Where did Alphonse go?" she found herself asking a few moments later.

Ed shrugged. "He went to go check for an empty room for himself," he replied. "You're staying with me."

Winry nodded a little. "O-okay." Again, a stronger wave of nervousness washed over her. And once more, she reminded herself that it was just Edward. It wasn't really anything new for them to share a bed; nothing had gone on. And Winry didn't need to worry about Ed trying something, either. So, what was her problem?

"Hey, Edward?" she murmured, stifling a yawn.

"Hmm?" He looked at her dazedly.

She thought a moment, wondering about what she was going to say. "I'm glad to be with you again," she murmured.

Ed smiled at her. "I am, too," he said.

Winry smiled and felt a little color fill her cheeks. He did care. Now all she had to do was convince him to open up to her. Then things might be a little easier. Or so she hoped.

A knock at the door set Edward on another level again. He slowly walked over to the door and peered through the hole. Winry saw him visibly relax back to his sleepy state and assumed it was only Al. Her assumption was proved correct when Al appeared in the door to tell Ed his room number. Then Ed and Winry were left alone again. This time, Ed flicked the lock on the door and yawned. Winry smiled.

"Are you going to sleep now?" she asked him.

He looked at her, only halfway awake. "Yeah. You should, too," he told her, walking over to the bed.

She nodded and looked around. The room was shabby, but it was warm. Also, the entire hotel was deserted looking, so they were probably safe. She was still a little on edge from the whole break-in. But when she climbed into the bed, Edward wrapped an arm around her waist slightly. Winry felt safe. Ed was there; he'd keep her out of harm. That was his job, right?


Much luff! Until next time!

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