Ahahaha, it's been, what, two weeks? A bit more? I'm sorry for the wait on this one, guys. It turns out that when I discover something as epic as Fullmetal Alchemist, I get momentarily obsessed and develop writer's block. Well, I decided to write this one while I wait for MegaVideo to let me watch another episode of Brotherhood, and I think it turned out intensely unlike it was supposed to. I'm afraid Vaughn may have grown a bit OOC... well, OOC for this fic, anyways. But, hey, it's chapter sixteen (or seventeen?) now. He should be able to talk to Chelsea like a normal human being Dx

Let me know if Vaughn seems a bit too much like Edward Elric and I'll rewrite this one. But I really don't want to. I like it the way it is xP

ANYWAYS... I just have to ask: does anyone else here think that Ed is intensely sexy, or is it just me? Of course, Vaughn is sexy, but we all knew that. It's a shame he doesn't have automail...

Wow, I'm sorry, guys. I think I need to sleep or something. It's after four in the morning here, ahahaha. I'll just let you get on with this. Enjoy~

Vaughn scowled at the air as he marched off the boat and onto Sunny Island. It was still very early on Wednesday morning and he wasn't happy. Ever since that odd incident at the restaurant on Sunday, Vaughn couldn't seem to get his mind to calm down. He had this little nagging feeling in his gut and it wasn't going away. Something had happened, and even though he didn't know what it was, he had a feeling that damn farmer had something to do with it. She always seemed to have something to do with everything these days.

"Hey, Vaughn! Welcome back!" Denny called as he left his shack. Vaughn shot him a death-glare for no real reason. Denny managed to shrug it off, noticing how especially hostile the cowboy seemed that particular morning.

Vaughn continued to stomp down the pathway in an irritated manner. He continued past the animal shop and, without skipping a beat, walked up the hill to Chelsea's farm. Growling slightly to himself, he stepped over to the door and placed three loud pounds on its worn, oak surface. He was getting some answers, damn it.

"Just a second!" He heard a muffled voice call from the other side. He heard a few light footsteps, followed by a rather large crash. He rose his eyebrows as the farmer let out a few choice words, surprising him with her vocabulary. Perhaps he'd been rubbing off on her. The door flew open then, revealing a very frazzled brunette with a bleeding arm. She looked up at her visitor in irritation, but her face seemed to take on a delighted warmth when she saw who it was.

"What the hell'd you do to your arm?" Vaughn asked, seeing a small trail of crimson making its way slowly from her shoulder downwards. She winced some before heaving out a heavy sigh.

"I was washing my dishes from breakfast when you knocked on the door, and then I went to set the plate down, but I tripped and it broke…" she trailed off, her face flushing. "I guess I managed to cut my shoulder on some of the glass."

"You idiot," Vaughn muttered, trying to ignore the guilt in the back of his mind, "D'you at least have any bandages or somethin'?"

"Yeah," Chelsea said, stepping back into her house, "and you can come in, if you'd like."

After a half-second's hesitation, Vaughn found himself walking into the little, run-down farmhouse. He scanned the room briefly, noticing a small table near a make-shift kitchen, a bed in the far corner, and a little area with a couch, bookcase, and fireplace over in another corner. It was an incredibly small space, and it seemed almost as cold inside as it was out. For a split-second, Vaughn wondered if she'd be warm enough for the remainder of winter.

By that time, Chelsea had retrieved a small first-aid kit and was rolling up her sleeve to fix the cut. She struggled to reach around herself with her other arm and get a good look at what she was doing. Vaughn could have laughed at her. She almost looked adorable—the way she had her tongue sticking out in concentration made her seem like a little girl. Shaking his head, Vaughn walked over and took the antibiotic ointment from her. She frowned as he started cleaning her wound. She couldn't see his face because of his hat, and for once, she was glad. She was getting tired of being so clumsy all the time. It was humiliating, to say the least. Now she'd gone and cut her arm, and he was helping her even though she annoyed him so much. It was probably things like this that made him hate her, she thought.

Sighing, she felt her cheeks heat up. He was nicer than anyone gave him credit for. They all said that he was mean—that he was dangerous. They said she should stay away from him, but the truth was, she'd be dead if it wasn't for him. He was probably the safest person she knew. Oh, the irony.

"What happened on Sunday?"

Chelsea's eyes widened and she snapped her gaze over to Vaughn's hat. How did he know…?

"Wh-what?"

"Did anything happen Sunday?" He muttered out, wrapping a bandage around her upper arm. She grimaced; this was not a story she had wanted to tell him.

"Uh, I went fishing with Denny and Lanna out on Denny's boat." She mumbled, her face pink. Vaughn looked up at her as he finished with the bandage, his eyes narrowing. This didn't sound good to him. Too many bad things could happen out on the ocean, and Chelsea was klutzy enough to make any of them possible.

"And?"

"And what?"

"And what happened then?"

Chelsea raised her eyebrows, her face flushing even more. "S-since when do you care what I do? You're never this interested…"

Vaughn felt his left eye twitch. He hated that she was right, but he just had to know. "Are you gonna tell me?"

Bowing her head, Chelsea sighed resignedly. "I may have accidentally gotten pulled into the water…"

"Can you swim?"

"…No."

Vaughn stood up suddenly, glaring down at the farmer ferociously. "Damn it, Chelsea! You're too frickin' klutzy! What happened then? Did—"

He stopped himself there, seeing Chelsea's frightened look. It froze him to his core. He'd seen that look before—he knew it all too well. He realized how he'd been acting. It was all too familiar… Chelsea's quiet voice shattered his painful reverie.

"Denny managed to save me, Vaughn. I guess I took in a lot of water because he had to resuscitate me," she paused and Vaughn twitched again. After a moment, she looked up at him with tired, misty eyes. "I'm sorry I'm such a bother!"

Vaughn stared her down for a while, not entirely comprehending what was going on. He didn't understand this girl. He'd been worrying about her. He'd been dreaming about her. He'd been thinking about her more than he'd thought about anyone else in a long while, and at first, he was sure that he hated her for it. But now, standing there, his stoic eyes staring into her exhausted ones, he realized that she'd done something that no one else had managed to do—and she hadn't even been trying.

She made him feel again.

She made him feel annoyed and angry at first, like everyone else had. But then she made him feel things like worry, guilt, and the most foreign: content. It had been fleeting at first, something he wasn't even sure of, but he actually almost felt happy when he saw her smile, and he was just realizing it.

Oh, Goddess, he thought. This wasn't something he'd bargained for.

"Look," Vaughn said, sitting down wearily. Avoiding her gaze, he continued, "I'm… sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you."

Chelsea smiled slightly, catching his attention. "It's okay. I think I needed a good slap in the face, y'know?"

Vaughn winced at her choice of words and stood up, adjusting his hat. "Well, I'd better get going. We both have work to do."

"Wait," the farmer said, standing up, "I wanted to ask you something…"

Vaughn turned towards her, waiting while she thought of how to broach the subject. After a few moments, she looked up at him, her eyes almost apologetic. "What?" He asked, feeling almost nervous.

"Uh, well, you live in the city, right?"

"Yeah."

"Do you remember maybe, uh," she paused, her face darkening in embarrassment, "maybe being on a boat one morning on the way to the city and saving a girl from falling over the railing? Or, or maybe pulling a girl out of the street later, in the city?"

Vaughn stared at her. She stared back, growing more and more tense by the second. Vaughn finally broke the intense silence by chuckling—a deep, rumbling sound that had Chelsea feeling somewhat lightheaded.

"You're pretty damn perceptive, you know that?"

Chelsea watched him helplessly as he turned and left the house, a smirk still on his lips.

Woah, did anyone pick up on the fact that THIS WAS VAUGHN'S FIRST LAUGH IN THE STORY? And he even smirked for us, too! I wonder if he'll ever actually smile, though. He's a stubborn one like that.

Thanks for reading! What did you think? Too cliche? Too dramatic? Too random? Ahahaha, if you think so, you're not the only one. xP

P.S. This is not only the longest chapter, but also the one written in the shortest amount of time. Isn't it funny how that works out?

P.P.S. FIVE MONTH ANNIVERSARY OF THIS FIC xP

P.P.P.S. Sorry, I keep remembering things. I'm changing the rating from K+ to T because of the language and other things, and the genre from Romance/Adventure to Romance/Angst... and you'll find out why if you can't guess already xD