Story Five! It hasn't been too too long, but it has been a while since my last update (in my opinion). Anyway, here it is! This idea just hit me all of a sudden, because I was trying to think of something to write about, and I could just imagine little Edward telling Winry she smelt nice. This is the result. Also I just thought that I'd mention that I am probably getting close to the end of the Little Wonders series, so be ready. Let me know what you think!

StarKatt427

Story Five: Joy

...Because he really can be sweet...

Legs tucked underneath her, Winry sat on the old brown couch in the living room, the early September breeze blowing in through the open window and ruffling her hair, attempting to flip the pages of her book. She kept one finger on each top corner to hold them down, only moving her thumbs away so she could push a loose strand of hair behind her ears. Engrossed in the images and the words of her late father's medical volume, she sat contently reading through the pages and gazing at drawings of organs, pictures of doctors preparing for surgery, and medical charts.

While most of her mind was absorbed with the book, another part, one she tried not to let swallow her very often and unless she was alone, was thinking about the date; September fourth. In less than a month, it would be October. Which was also the month that Edward had announced he planned on heading out to East City and taking the State Alchemy exam. He'd stood up one night at dinner to a curious Winry and Pinako and a consenting Alphonse, and with the same determined look on his face as he'd shown the night they'd begun his automail surgery, he'd said, "I'm gonna get my license in two months." And while he hadn't said anything about leaving, Winry knew it was implied.

A small spasm of loneliness overtook her for just a moment, but she quickly pushed it back into the recesses of her heart. She'd known they would be leaving for almost a year now; it shouldn't have come as a surprise that their departure was approaching so soon. This would be her last month with her best friends, and she wouldn't waste it moping around or wallowing in self pity.

"Hey."

Winry looked up from her page and toward the doorway to see Edward standing there in nothing but his boxers and a T-shirt, gold hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, reminding her of his mother, instead of the usual braid he almost constantly donned now that he could actually plait his hair, a few strands hanging free around his face. He was leaning against the doorframe, a hand habitually grabbing at the waistband of his shorts as he looked at her, expression slightly annoyed.

"Didn't you hear Granny call you?" he asked, apparently put out at having been removed from his earlier activity.

"No," Winry replied, brushing another piece of hair out of her face as she waited for him to get to the point.

"It's time to eat. And since you didn't hear, she made me get up and come get you."

One corner of her mouth turned up slightly at his words and she imagined Ed sitting at the table, mouth almost watering at the sight of a meal. She didn't say anything, instead taking a moment to stretch her arms above her head, the action pulling her shirt up slightly above her stomach, then looking back at Ed.

He had a strange expression on his face, caught between fascination and irritation, his cheeks slightly red as he watched her. Winry felt an eyebrow raise momentarily as she tried to figure out why he was blushing, but quickly gave up and went back to her book.

"Well?" he asked, voice insistent as he crossed his arms.

"What?"

"Come on!"

"I'll be there in a second. I just need to finish this chapter."

Edward blew air out of his mouth in exasperation, letting his arms hang loose. Winry rolled her eyes, gave him a smile, then went back to reading.

As she read, Winry was highly aware that Edward was watching her, waiting for her to finish so he could go eat. Trying not to let her frustration get the better of her, she forced herself to pretend he wasn't there, which she failed horribly at; when Edward came into a room, he was like the sun, filling it with warmth and fire and light and an all consuming energy that seemed to grow and surround her, making it hard to focus.

After about two minutes, finally fed up, Winry turned on him, expression pulled down in a light frown, horribly at contrast with her earlier smile. Edward, unaware that she was about to look up at him, jumped slightly.

"Are you going to stand there until I finish?" Winry asked, trying to keep her voice from dropping into its seriously annoyed pitch.

"Uh, sorry," he murmured, seemingly dazed, which caught Winry off guard. What was wrong with him?

"You can go on and eat, just tell Granny I'll be there in a minute."

"Okay."

He didn't move.

Shutting the book on her finger as to not loose her page, Winry sighed at him. "What now?"

"What are you reading?"

Her annoyance at him lifted and she realized that he was watching her read out of curiosity. Both Elric brothers were avid readers, as long as the book was alchemy related. Winry, though, expanded more genres and read anything she could find, including her parents' old medical books.

She smiled and jerked her head slightly, indicating him to come closer as she reopened the book. He sauntered over at a very relaxed pace, bare feet making two different sounds on the wood floor; one a fleshy tap, the other a metallic thump. He leaned over and examined the page she was on.

"It's one of Dad's books I found a few weeks ago," she said, positioning the book so he could see a little better, suddenly aware of how close her was to her, his new automail arm behind her on the backrest, his flesh hand on his hip. He leaned down farther, and she felt a strand of his hair brush over her bare shoulder.

"Makes sense," he said, knowing just how she was. "What's this one about?"

"Mainly about the organs of the thorax; the heart, lungs…it mentions the ribs and cartilage too."

Edward moved his left hand toward the book, finger pointing at an image of a man dressed in surgical attire, a team of other doctors behind him, and asked, "What'd he do?"

For a moment, Winry couldn't find her voice, because right when he had moved to indicate the picture, his hand had gently brushed hers, igniting a tingly feeling in her own that was not in the least unpleasant. On the contrary, it was deliciously nice, the way it ran all the way up to her chest and stomach and filled her with a fluttery, light sensation.

Luckily, she gained her bearings quickly enough so that he never noticed anything had flustered her and no emotion had had enough time to cross her face. "That's Doctor Vladimir Perić from Creta. This book's six years old, so about six years ago, he performed the first minor heart surgery with the help of an Amestrian surgeon."

Edward's eyes took on an interested light, his face lifting in a rapt expression. "Wow."

Nice vocabulary, Winry thought dryly, but she knew that was the first thing she had thought too while reading this section. "It's still going to be a while before anyone does a major procedure, but this was a major step in medical science."

"I bet," Edward said, adjusting his weight, positioning himself even closer to her.

Both silently looked at the pages as Winry flipped them, stopping to gaze at pictures or talk about a certain article that they found interesting. Pinako came into the room once and told them to hurry up and that the food would get cold, Winry replying that they'd be there soon, to which the old woman had rolled her eyes fondly and walked back to the kitchen to converse with Al.

It was nice, this quiet, enjoyable moment Winry was sharing with Edward. A new memory. She relaxed into the couch, his warmth surrounding her as they skimmed the pages, Edward still standing over her shoulder, cheek sometimes accidentally brushing against her hair, and Winry leaning more towards him.

They were eleven pages past the earlier stopping point when Edward said, involuntarily and somewhat content, "You smell good."

Winry's fingers froze from turning the page, her eyes going wide and warmth flooding her face as she slowly curved her neck upward to look at Ed, shocked and wonderfully pleased.

Edward seemed to realize he'd spoken aloud, because right when Winry looked at him, he blushed a dark pink all the way down to his neck and his lips parted, catching on words, his eyes large and surprised, expression more embarrassed than Winry could remember ever seeing.

For a moment, both stared at each other, unable to speak.

It was Winry who broke the silence by asking, voice very quiet and strangely soft, "What?"

Edward quickly pulled back away from her into a straight position as if she was a plague, a hand scratching at his head nervously as he stuttered, "No, I didn't mean that."

Winry's expression caught on confusion and hurt at his words. "So I stink?" she asked, mortified.

Realizing his blunder, Ed used his hands for emphasis as he continued, nerves making him speak so quickly that Winry could barely understand him. "Wait! I mean, I didn't mean you don't smell good or anything, just that you…uh…"

"Uh what?" she demanded, glaring up at him.

"Would you two hurry up!" Pinako called, making both of them jump, the book falling from Winry's lap and onto the floor.

Edward, thankful for the excuse to leave, nearly headed out through the door without answering her, but at the last moment, quickly walked over in front of Winry and knelt down, picking up the book.

Winry, about to demand he explain himself and also very tempted to run into her workroom and grab the new wrench she'd just recently gotten to bash him upside the head, was cut off when he said, voice unguarded and completely not like himself, "I wasn't lying."

Lost, Winry cocked her head slightly as she watched him. He was still on the floor, staring at the book but not really seeing it, his cheekbones and nose lightly stained in a soft blush. He glanced up from the book and looked at her, eyes sunglow yellow and very warm, open. "You smell really good."

A blush colored Winry's fair face at his words, her heart swelling up into her throat, rendering her speechless. Up until this moment, she had often wondered if an Edward this soft, this exposed and sweet, could ever exist. Now, as she looked at him, she knew an Ed like this was real, just hidden beneath all the pride and cockiness.

And she liked this Edward.

He abruptly turned away, but Winry didn't miss the way his blush had darkened, and he stood up, handing the book to her without glancing her way. He shoved his left hand out impatiently, glancing out from the corner of his eyes at her. "So hurry up, gear head," he said, voice back to it's usual bratty, insistent tone; still, Winry could now hear an almost crooning, tender tenor buried deep within his words.

Winry smiled, happiness filling her being and making her give a gentle laugh, telling him she understood. She reached up and took hold of his hand, larger than hers but still small, and said, "Okay."

As they walked to the kitchen, him in front and surprisingly still holding her hand, Winry watched his back and thought about how much he'd grown over the last year. Since he and Al had tried to bring their mother back, Edward had become quieter and didn't speak to her as freely as he once had, his face taking on the look of a man who had seen all the horrors of the world but still holding onto that childish nature. He seemed, somehow, wiser now, or maybe that was just to her, almost like he was many years older than Winry instead of the two months he was. This new Edward was more hardheaded and determined than ever, now solely focused on getting Alphonse's body back.

But there were other times when he had been so weak during those first few months, whether from the automail surgery, nightmares, or just the weight that now rested on his shoulders, nights where he cried himself to sleep from fear that his little brother hated him. She had stayed with him during some of those nights, at times brushing his hair away from his face, other times simply holding his hand. His voice was a little deeper now, face a little more chiseled, body harder from training; he was growing up. He might not have grown in height, but his presence was unmatched.

In more recent months, he had become increasingly independent with his automail, learning how to write with his left hand and braid his hair, more adamant about not giving up. Edward was stronger now, and Winry couldn't help but wonder if she'd had something to do with that new strength.

And when Edward's grip on her hand tightened into a warm embrace, she knew she had and was pleased.