A/N: I like this one. Wrote it almost two years ago in English while our class watched (yes, watched) Looking for Alibrandi...-shudder- It destroyed the book! Destroyed it! Well I reckon it did, anyway. Rediscovered the fic after arranging all my stories into a folder and thought, 'hey, this is fluff.' Enjoy the fluff.

"EEEEEED!"

Edward Elric routinely dove under a table.

But not before Winry's well aimed wrench clipped the back of his blonde head.

"Ow! Winry, that was an open-ended! Now I'll have two bumps," he whined as he crawled out, clutching the large tool in his flesh hand. Today, the right sleeve of his infamous red coat was in tatters, Ed's automail arm exposed and hanging uselessly by his side. Winry scowled and snatched back her precious wrench.

"Clothes: off. Now," she growled, but Ed had already begun to undress.

Now, in any other situation, this statement would have meant something VERY different. Ed had to be basically down to his boxers for Winry to examine and disassemble his automail to repair it properly. It had never occurred to either of them the potential alternate interpretation of her words.

Winry had her back turned as she rummaged through her tool kits, pulling out various oddly shaped instruments for the task at hand. Arms full of clinking tools, she turned around – and stifled a gasp.

There was a strange young man sitting on her work bench. His wild blonde hair was stuffed in a messy plait with a fringe drawing attention to his deep gold eyes; taut muscle on his bare chest, shoulders and stomach was packed beneath skin tanned brown by the sun.

This… (Winry supposed she couldn't call him a boy anymore, but couldn't bear to call him a man)…guy, was in fact, Edward. Ed, her childhood friend from as far back as her memory allowed.

To tell the truth, she wasn't tempted at all by how handsome he'd grown. He had always been Ed, and he still was now. It was just that his body surprised her sometimes.

"What is it?" he asked, eyebrows shooting up innocently. Winry blinked and dumped the tools beside him, rubbing her arms.

"Nothing. You've just grown up, that's all," she replied. There was no point in lying; he'd be able to tell instantly, and Winry was always straight-forward honest with Ed. (Most of the time.)

A smile twitched the corners of Ed's mouth at her remark. Winry grabbed a screwdriver from the pile and set to work on his limp arm. For a while there was a comfortable silence between them, punctuated with the occasional scratch of metal.

"You've grown up too, Winry," said Ed. He stole a glance at her curvy body and reasonable expanse of chest, shown off by her scarce clothing due to hot working conditions of the garage. She was wearing a grey tank top that cut off well above her bellybutton, and that purple-pinky jumpsuit she adored, tied around her hips.

"Thanks," said Winry, still focusing on her work. "Jeeze, what did you do? The nerve ending are completely dislocated form the circuitry system." She wiped the sweat from her brow and stretched.

Groaning in anger, Ed launched into the story: he had challenged Roy Mustang.

Again.

The Flame Alchemist had decided to give Ed a more forceful reminder of where he, Fullmetal stood, it seemed. But that was only after Ed had bestowed Mustang with two shredded ignition gloves, a fractured wrist and a slightly bruised ego.

Winry had been rather tense in her body language throughout the story, and now Ed found out why.

"Uh, Ed? This…is going to hurt. A lot," she murmured after he'd finished explaining. Ed shifted his body to face her and bit his lip.

"Ok. Can I ask why?" he said.

"Because I'm about to take the automail off and expose the ends of the nerves," she replied quietly.

Ed cringed, recalling the blind pain he'd experienced when Winry and Pinako had first fitted him with the atuomail.
It had been agony.

"Ready?"

Ed nodded grimly. Winry grasped the metal bicep with both hands. "One. Two. Three!" She yanked off the automail.

Ed cried out and gripped the bench till his knuckles turned white. Tears pooled in his amber eyes. Ed slumped over his knees, panting, hair falling over his face. It felt like someone was stabbing his shoulder with white hot needles, over and over again…

"I know, it hurts. The worst is over, if it helps," said Winry timidly as she lay the damaged arm on the bench to inspect it. Ed let out a strangled moan and threw back his head. The pain hadn't receded at all.

"Can't you give me something?" he asked through gritted teeth. Winry shook her head, empathy radiating from her grey-blue eyes. They slid down to Ed's automail leg.

"Does it need fixing?" she asked, pointing. Ed muttered no, then let another stifled shout of pain. Winry saw a spark alight in his eye, then watched as he raised his flesh hand. Ed brought his fist down sharply onto a stray nail in the bench.

"What are you doing?" exclaimed Winry, seizing his wrist mid-fall.

"Causing pain somewhere else numbs the original place," said Ed, flexing his bleeding knuckles.

Winry cautiously released him and said, "I see your point, but that's just silly."

"If you can think of a better distraction, I'd like to hear it!"

A dirty thought jumped to Winry's mind, and she scolded herself for even thinking about it. Although, it would make an excellent distraction…

"Well?" said Ed, a nasty tone beginning to lace his voice. Pain made him sarcastic, as Winry had noticed.

"I know one," she replied slowly. Ed's golden eyes lit up like sunlight.

"What! Do it, whatever it is!" Winry shifted uncomfortably and wet her lips. Ed sighed then flinched as a fresh wave of hurt throbbed from his shoulder. "Winry, I don't care how much it hurts; anything is better than this."

"You'll regret it…"

"JUST DO IT!"

Normally his words would have stung her, but today they just made her angry.

You asked for it, Edward Elric.

She snaked her arms around his neck and kissed him.

It was such a kiss, filled with pent-up emotions Winry didn't even know existed. Ed started to respond – his eyes began to close, his hand came up to touch her cheek… then he came to his senses.

"Winry what are you doing?" he said in disbelief.

"Distracting you. Now this is only to help you as a friend, okay?" said Winry. She was having trouble convincing herself. Ed nodded, bewildered, and she went in slowly this time, capturing his gaze and holding it.

The pain in Ed's shoulder subsided a tiny bit as Winry approached him. He shivered as she trailed work-worn fingertips down his chest. Who was she now? Winry had always been…Winry, more like a boyish friend than anything. When they were little he often forgot that she was a girl; she was always up for playing in the mud or climbing trees, while the other little girls of Resmbool would be inside having tea parties.

Ed was reminded strongly of Winry's gender as she kissed him again and pressed her body against his. He'd gotten over the shock of her by now, but the bare nerves of his shoulder still stung painfully.

"Come on," he taunted, breaking the kiss. "Put your back into it, Winry."

In answer, she untwined her arms, stepped back, and peeled off her tank top. Ed's eyes widened. She had on a simple black sports bra that left plenty to the imagination, yet to Ed, she was absolutely beautiful. Sunlight filtering in from the garage window shone on Winry's platinum blonde hair as she shook it free of its ponytail.

"Better," Ed choked out. The two teenagers kissed until they were both breathless, sort of knowing deep down that it wasn't just a distraction from Ed's pain. Ed was quite aware of this, and he suddenly also became aware of his power over her just then.

"Winry," he panted, forcing himself away from her. He had to stop; if they kept going he didn't know what might happen. Ed refused to let himself or Winry do anything they may regret. He had enough regrets in his life already.

"My arm's fine," he lied.

"Oh," said Winry, as out of breath as he was. "That's good. I'll…get to work on your arm then."

She hastily pulled her top over her head and busied herself with a tool kit. Ed smiled and hopped off the table, gathering his clothes into a bundle and heading for the house. If he didn't know better, Winry Rockbell had just enjoyed a very different aspect of automail machinery.

A/N: All together now: 'awwww...' -grin-