Hey gang! We're back with more, and this is the final chapter of the Central arc (finally! for real!) that was originally supposed to be a two-parter. It's EdWin-focused and it is Banter City, located in the heart of Dense Boy County. This is a little shorter than the previous chapter but still PRETTY DANG LONG, so I hope you like it! Wherever you are, I hope you're safe and healthy and staying home as much as possible so we can beat COVID-19 sooner rather than later.
I was trying to hold out for more reviews before I posted this next one but I'M TOO EXCITED, and honestly I am blessed with the finest regular reviewers in all the land, so you guys take your time. :P Thank you for your wonderful feedback so far!
Song for this one is "Glass House" by Kaleo, after the expression "people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones".
I don't need much,
I don't need another friend
Bittersweet touch,
You don't see me holding hands
So keep on walking,
You know I'm doing the best I can
Look who's talking,
I'm your man, I'm your man
Throwing rocks at the glass house,
Throwing rocks at the glass house all night long
After the movie ended, Winry quickly briefed Edward on the situation.
"So he's cheaping out on the equipment, which is breaking the equipment?" Ed said, squinting. "Seems like the kind of problem that's gonna solve itself pretty quickly."
"No, you don't get it," Winry replied, shaking her head. "Didn't you read about what happened in New Optain two years ago?"
"New Optain? I think I fought a guy from there, but I don't see how that's relevant."
"It's not. Two years ago they had a cinema like this in New Optain, and it burned to the ground and six people died, and a bunch more got hurt."
"Oh."
"Yeah—and the reason the fire started is that movie film is made of nitrocellulose, which is—"
"—Super-flammable because it's made from potassium nitrate?" Ed interjected, comprehension dawning on his face.
"Exactly."
"Oh my god, and the free oxygen that would be released when it burned would mean you couldn't just extinguish it with water, because—" Ed stared into empty space in front of him, visualizing chemical compounds.
"I don't know about that," Winry said, "but yeah, it's made of crazy chemicals and sits next to a hot lightbulb."
Ed looked nervously over his shoulder at the projection booth. "So this place is a death trap, basically?"
"It wouldn't be if the manager was running it right. Plus I fixed the projector, so relax." She took a final sip of her lime soda, then continued. "There are all kinds of precautions cinemas are supposed to be taking now—and even Mr. Greenboro has this whole asbestos box setup for his projector so he doesn't set the Jacksons' barn on fire. But it seems like this guy doesn't get how big a deal they are. I'm going to go talk to him."
Winry stood up, and Ed followed suit.
"You really think he's going to listen to you?" Ed asked, brushing bits of sour candy dust off the front of his clothes. "He didn't strike me as being super open to criticism."
"He was kind of rude, but that doesn't mean he's completely unreasonable," Winry replied. "I'm sure he'll take this seriously once he understands it.
When they actually came face-to-face with the manager again ten minutes later, he was in his office in the back of the building, impatiently smoking a cigar in his chair while Winry calmly explained her concerns and Ed waited in the doorway just behind her.
At first he gave her a perfunctory, dismissive thank-you and tried to shoo her and Ed quickly out the door, but Winry dug in her heels. She paraphrased herself politely, twice, and was brushed off both times. With her last shred of patience, she kept her composure and tried one more time.
"I don't think you understand—this is really serious. If one part of the projector setup isn't up to code, there could be a lot of other issues too, and that puts everyone in the building in danger. You should really have the fire inspector in here as soon as possible."
At that, he stood up, taking a step closer to Winry so he was looming down over her. His demeanor shifted ominously.
"Young lady, you need to learn to start minding your own business," the manager snarled. "A little girl from out in the sticks might not understand the finer details of running a successful enterprise, but I own an empire of cinema houses just like this one, and it's only getting bigger. The city can put up their little bits of red tape here and there to try and slow me down, but they know as well as I do that it's all baseless fearmongering. I'm giving the people what they want, and I'm not about to let some pencil-pushing inspector stand in my way. My brother-in-law is a sergeant in the military police, so I wouldn't put your nose where it doesn't belong."
He was well over six feet tall to begin with, but the man seemed like he was getting bigger as he spoke, his chest puffing out like a ruffled bird. As he paused for breath Ed stepped into the room, stopping half a pace behind Winry.
"This business is a numbers game, and if I have to bend a few conventions to make my operations more efficient then that's what I'm going to do. It's a calculated risk," he continued, "and managing risk effectively is what investments like this are all about, end of story. I'm going to run my theatre however I damn well please, fire 'precautions' be damned, and there's nothing you and your little boyfriend can do about it."
When he finished speaking he was red in the face and radiating sour rage, evidently sure he'd been sufficiently intimidating.
Ed and Winry shot each other sidelong glances, their eyebrows raised.
"Really?" Winry said, her tone unsettlingly bright. "Not even if one of us had, say, an exact technical understanding of just how much damage you almost did, and the other had a very interesting piece of jewelry?"
"What are you—" the manager stopped dead as his eyes landed on the silver watch Ed had just produced from his vest pocket.
"You know what this watch means, Pops," Ed smirked, "or do you wanna call your brother-in-law down here so he can explain it to you?"
"He—but—you—"
"What's his name? Maybe you already know him, Ed," Winry said.
"You know what, maybe I do," Ed said, matching her cheerful tone. "He might even have mentioned me before without you knowing it. See, I'm not real big on formalities..."
"That's for sure," Winry chimed in.
"So I don't usually have the MPs address me as Major Elric, even though I could have any one of them court-martialed if I wanted to," Ed said, smiling. "Chain of command, y'know."
The manager blanched.
"I hope you don't mind if we borrow your phone," Winry said, grinning as she breezed past him.
…
Some time later, Edward and Winry both finally stepped out of the popcorn-and-tobacco cinema air and into the street, exhaling in relief.
They had both given very formal testimony and signed official affidavits, expressing the very serious fire risk to the police and staying stern and sober as the manager had been taken for questioning.
But now, out in the fresh air, full of sugar and adrenaline, they caught each other's eyes and burst out laughing.
"Oh my god, that guy!" Ed wheezed.
"He thought he was such a big deal! The way he was talking—"
"Like a gangster movie reject!"
"Exactly! And he was acting so tough at first—"
"—and then the next minute he thought you were going to actually murder him."
"If you didn't have that watch, I might've," Winry said, snickering. "If I'd had a blunt object on hand instead that probably would've gone differently."
"Oh yeah. He thought he was such a badass when he started talking—but every time he said 'young lady' I could see you making that wrench-throwing face."
"He's just lucky I didn't still have a wrench on me."
The two of them fell into step side by side and started walking down the main street, back towards the market square. It was just after eleven, and the bars and restaurants were all still open. It was chilly out, but the avenue was brightly lit and there were plenty of people around.
"Really? You don't have one in your little purse or in your pocket or something?"
"This purse is barely big enough to hold the ticket stubs! Plus girls' clothes like these don't come with pockets," Winry said, tugging at the hem of her skirt.
"What? Where are you supposed to put stuff?"
"Beats me."
"Well, even so—the Winry I know would still have a spanner strapped to her leg or something."
"Well, the Edward that I know would have flipped out on that guy an hour ago for calling him little, but here we are and you didn't even notice."
"Oh, I noticed," Ed replied. "But in case you weren't aware, I've actually grown as a person in recent months."
"You've grown a couple inches, I'll admit, but I don't know about 'as a person.'"
"Aw, come on! It's like you can't even see my cool vest."
"That's a normal suit vest."
"It has a POCKET just for my WATCH."
"IT'S A POCKET WATCH."
"I know! And there's a pocket watch pocket! Now it looks much cooler when I pull it out."
Winry laughed. "It was pretty cool back there, I'll admit. Intimidating. I think you made that guy pee himself a little."
"Yeah," Ed said with a cocky grin. "It's what I do."
"That's what you do? Make guys pee themselves?"
"What? No! Shut up!"
Winry snorted. "That must really be a niche field."
"You're the worst."
"Now I can see why they take those licensing exams so seriously. The military wouldn't want just anyone walking around with that kind of power."
"Oh my god, I'm never taking you anywhere again."
"Wow, so this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see you in action!"
"Now this is just gross."
"Boy, what a night, seeing such a high-ranking government official on the job."
"Okay, that much is true," Ed sighed.
He paused. They had arrived at the entrance to the market square, and Winry gasped as they passed through the archway and the fountain came into view. They both stopped to admire it, with Ed looking nervously at Winry to gauge her reaction. So far so good, he thought.
It was a series of round stone pools stacked high overhead like the tiers of a giant cake, with sculpted, gilded lions in all manner of poses at every level, streams of clear water curving from their mouths. There were tendrils of golden ivy wound around the edges of the pools, and they were so shiny that Ed thought it must have been someone's full-time job to keep them polished. There were gas lamps installed strategically between the jets, and they were all lit now, sparkling as the silver arcs of water rose and fell. The gold trim caught the light beautifully, so that the entire fountain seemed to shimmer.
This was one of the fanciest, most opulent and most shamelessly over-the-top landmarks in the city, and it really lived up to its reputation. He had been planning on taking Winry here to see it, but it looked even better than he'd hoped. So that made exactly one part of the night that had gone how it was supposed to.
"I guess things ended up being kind of… 'exciting' after all," Ed said, suddenly sheepish. "Sorry about that."
Winry stopped and looked up at Edward in the lamplight. His eyes met hers and he was a little caught off-guard by the way the lights from the fountain reflected in them.
"Hey, don't be sorry! I wasn't trying to guilt-trip you about last year—I was just kidding when I said that."
"Yeah," Ed said, his voice heavy, "but…none of that last year should've had to happen. I shouldn't have put you through all that."
Winry clicked her tongue, looking up at him with an expression he couldn't quite name. "Ed, you don't need to keep feeling bad about that. It wasn't great, but obviously I know now what you guys were up against. I get it."
"Really?"
"Well, yeah," she said. "And even just now—well, I kind of get how easy it is to get caught up in something dangerous because you think you can fix something."
"Heh. No kidding," Ed replied. "We really lucked out that that jerk wasn't some kind of actual mob boss. That could've gone really badly, and you just rushed right in."
It was Winry's turn to look a little sheepish, but she was still smiling. "I can't believe you're lecturing me about doing something reckless."
"Ha!" Ed pointed at her in mock triumph.
"Ugh, don't let it go to your head."
"Too late. I'm extremely mature and there's nothing you can do about it." He punctuated the statement by sticking out his tongue.
True to form, Winry did it back, and they both laughed.
"But seriously," she said, "I get how knowing you're able to set something right can kind of…push everything else out of your mind. I definitely wasn't worrying about consequences back there—I just knew I was right and I knew what to do about it."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah! And I guess I should feel a bit bad for jumping in without thinking, but…"
"But what?"
She grinned in spite of herself. "It actually just felt really great to stop that guy. I wasn't scared for a second. And it kind of made me realize that's probably why it's so easy for you to get into trouble so often."
Ed looked down at her, too surprised to say anything snarky in return. Oh.
She had such a clear, potent something in her eyes, meeting Edward's dead-on, that he had to look away. He didn't know what was happening to him, but he felt his cheeks grow way too hot and felt a sudden and powerful need to stare at cobblestones at his feet. Maybe the fountain was too good an idea.
"Uh," he began, pointing abruptly past the fountain, "there's a stall over here with really good hot chocolate and those fried dough things."
"Oh," Winry said, caught off-guard. "Uh...sure, I could go for a hot chocolate."
"Great." Ed shoved his hands in his coat pockets and strode ahead, leaving Winry scurrying to catch up, his cheeks still burning.
Okay, maybe he had a slight inkling as to what was happening to him. But he was not going to think about it right now. He was going to eat a fried dough thing. He was going to eat as many fried dough things as he had to.
…
They spent an hour or so wandering around in the market square, eating late-night snacks from the stalls, people-watching and talking. They got paper fortunes from a cheesy coin-operated machine near the fountain, and Ed refused to read his out loud.
"What are you being so superstitious for all the sudden?" Winry asked him, straining to reach the little slip of paper as he held it up over her head. "Let me see!"
"It's not superstition!" Ed protested, still holding it away from her. "I just don't wanna read it out."
"Why, is it something embarrassing? Or is it something good and you don't want to jinx it?"
"No! And I don't even believe in jinxes!"
Then Winry stood up on the bottom edge of the fountain to make up their height difference, and she reached for Ed's wrist, suddenly well within range—and in one motion he grabbed her arm with one hand and her waist with the other, and flipped her over his shoulder, depositing her with her feet on the ground facing the opposite way.
She shrieked in surprise, but he'd moved so fast and he'd set her down so gently that it didn't fully register right away what exactly had happened.
"Did you…did you just flip me?" She blew a loose strand of hair away from her face, annoyed.
"You took the high ground! I had to take evasive action!"
"You can't just flip people in the middle of the street!"
"Well, you can't just steal from people, but here we are!"
"Whatever! Just let me see it!"
"Too late, I dropped it in the fountain."
"If it weren't so cold out I'd drop you in the fountain."
"Oh, well, I appreciate your consideration. Anyway, did you even read yours yet?"
"Oh, I forgot!" Winry unfolded the little slip of paper. Then she tried and failed to stifle a laugh.
"What's so funny?"
She was doubled over laughing, and barely surfaced to hand him the fortune.
Your life will soon be turned upside down.
"See," Ed said, snickering, "now aren't you glad you got it out of the way?"
They were still laughing by the time they got back to the hotel. It was well past midnight, and they had to buzz the front desk at the door to have the night concierge let them in. They thanked him and headed up the stairs together, their cheeks a little rosy from the cold.
They paused at the door to Winry's room—Ed's was two doors further down the hall.
"Well, that was extremely not what I had planned for tonight, but at least nobody got hurt, right?" Ed said, a half-smile on his face.
"Are you kidding? I told you already, I had a great time!" Winry sighed and shook her head.
"I know, I just—you really mean it? You're not just trying to make me feel better because I said I felt bad earlier?"
"Ed, I've been your mechanic for five years. When have I ever sugar-coated anything for you?"
He laughed, subconsciously rubbing his right shoulder at the memory of dozens of Winry's blindingly painful nerve connections. "Okay, okay. You're right."
Winry leaned against the doorway, absently twisting a strand of hair that had fallen loose from the elegant knot on her left side. "That food at dinner was amazing," she said. "And I loved the movie, obviously. And it was nice getting to just hang around and be tourists."
"Hey, we're not tourists, we're here on business."
"Shut up, you know what I mean! Just being normal and getting to hang out together without feeling like the world is ending."
"Yeah," Ed said softly. "I liked that too."
There was a half-beat of silence, and they both looked at their shoes. Then Ed lifted his eyes again, and she felt the intensity of his gaze on her face before she even looked up to meet it.
He took a step closer to her, and tentatively put a hand on the side of her shoulder. He had an expression on his face that she couldn't name, but she'd seen it on him before.
"I…" he faltered, biting his lip. He leaned in a little closer.
That's it, she thought. It's the same face he makes when he's studying—when he's reading and he's trying to memorize something.
"Thanks for coming with me," Ed said finally, and he gave her shoulder a tiny squeeze and then let it go. "G'night!"
He whirled around sharply and strode down the hall to his room before Winry even had time to process what had happened. He opened the door, stepped in, and then stuck his head back out into the hallway to call out to her.
"Check-out's at noon tomorrow because it's Saturday, and the train's at one, so no rush, eh?"
"Got it," Winry said, nonplussed. "Good night!"
"Night, Winry," he replied quietly, and then he shut the door, and that was that.
In her own room, Winry locked the door, took off her boots, sat down on the edge of the bed and started pulling bobby pins out of her hair. She dropped them onto the nightstand next to her one by one with neat little click sounds as she tried to make sense of what the hell had just happened. She was exhausted—definitely reaching the end of her snack-induced sugar rush—but part of her brain was going into overdrive trying to analyze the night she'd had, and it was overwhelming.
In all honesty it had been one of the best nights she could remember having, period. Easily the most glamourous, by a mile, which made it even weirder that Ed had orchestrated the whole thing. And he was himself, absolutely—but also this completely different person, this new version of himself that she hadn't expected.
He had actually talked about where he'd been and what he'd done, unprompted, without being asked to or forced to. He'd just casually told her about his life and how he felt about things, like they were normal people. Like they were close. That was majorly different, and it had to be a good sign.
And she felt—well, she felt different. It had been awhile since she'd come to terms with her feelings for Edward, but obviously things were complicated. But suddenly she felt like there was something between them—like it wasn't just her feelings in her head. Like maybe—maybe he was actually having the same ones.
She shook her hair loose, finally, slipped out of the fancy yellow dress and crawled into bed.
Winry wasn't sure how much of this feeling was just wishful thinking on her part. But she wasn't crazy—he had taken her out for the whole evening, on purpose, just the two of them.
They'd gone to dinner and a movie, for crying out loud. Obviously they ate dinner together practically every night anyway, and they were out of town so of course they ate at a restaurant—but still. It had a certain undertone that she was almost positive she wasn't imagining.
But this was Ed, and he was dense as a ton of bricks, so it was entirely possible that he hadn't put any of that together at all. She knew that was a very real possibility.
But even if that were true—there was still that moment, wasn't there? That moment by the fountain where it looked like he might've been—well. He was freaked out about something, that much was obvious.
And then just now, by the door! What the heck was that, if NOT him thinking about kissing her?
Oh God, Winry thought, with sudden horror. What if it was him trying to figure out whether I thought he was going to kiss me, and he wasn't going to at all, and now he's flipping out about it?
There wasn't any doubt that Ed cared about her; that much was definitely clear. They were well past that. But they were both growing up now. Did he have any idea how she felt about him? Did he have any idea how he felt about her? Was he lying in the next room trying to make the same mental risk/benefit analysis she was right now, weighing out how scary it would be to actually broach the subject of the two of them being more than just childhood friends?
She could build up such a solid case in her mind—but then she could poke holes in it just as easily. It was exhausting.
Who are you kidding? Winry reminded herself, sighing and rolling over. It's Ed. He probably fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow. He's not full of emotional turmoil; he's just full of fried dough. He's not thinking about you at all.
Two doors down, a still fully-dressed Ed was sprawled across the couch, his limbs splayed at odd angles, radically misusing the furniture as only lanky, preoccupied teenagers can. He had one hand behind his head, and the other was holding a tiny, wrinkled slip of paper in front of his face. He was staring up at it, looking at once furious, skeptical and terrified.
When you open your eyes to the possibility of love, do not be surprised to discover it right in front of you.
THERE WE GO! The Central arc! Complete!
I'm going to keep writing more EdWin stuff that follows this continuity, but I'm probably going to bounce around a bit first. I think next up will be something about Al, because frankly I'm neglecting the poor guy. We might even check in on Mustang and friends again soon, who knows! Next update will probably take a little longer. Thank you for reading, and please let me know what you think! :)
