Disclaimers: FMA not mine.

A/N: Winry's POV. (Any typos, please excuse. I'm completely flustered today with packing to go to my bastard father's and other shit like that, so my thoughts are scattered. If this isn't up to standards with the other chapters, it will get better I promise. )

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Take Your Medicine

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I glanced at him sideways. He stretched into a long yawn, his eyes squeezing shut. I snorted, but I smiled, and tightened my arms around his waist, scooting closer and nestling my head against his shoulder. He blinked, looking at me weird.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Edward grunted and turned his head, kissing my forehead quickly. My stomach churned excitedly. Maybe it showed on my face, because he laughed and then nuzzled his nose into my temple. I moved my legs, readjusting them so that the breeze wouldn't billow up my dress anymore, curling my toes inside my shoes. The laundry was hung up and fluttering wildly in the August afternoon. I had thrown the weeds out across the road so that their roots wouldn't (easily, at least) find their way back to the garden; my dirty hands I had doused under the sink in the kitchen, and met Ed slumped against the side of the house in the shade of a dancing tree.

"Hey," he had drawled, giving me one of his cat-nap grins. I rolled my eyes and tried to pull him up, saying that we needed to finish cleaning the inside of the house, but he had overpowered me and yanked me down to sit beside him.

I looked to him again, my frown fading. I looked at his lips, and his nose, and his eyes. He caught my gaze and locked his onto mine, and I quickly turned my face the opposite way. I could never stare into his eyes when he was staring back into mine; his were too deep, too strong, too…too frocking amazing. I felt him snicker silently and hug me tighter.

"You're stupid," he muttered. I whipped my face around to send him a truly appalled, open-mouth glare.

"What?" I squealed, giving him a quick, holding my dress down with one hand.

Edward laughed, rolling away from me and almost into the garden. I sat there, glowering, sitting up straight and rigid, gripping the hem of my dress to keep it from flying up. Finally he stopped rolling on his stomach and curled gentle fists onto the grass, glancing at me with slit eyes. His hair fell and his arm was lying in a position so that all I could see were his (frocking amazing) eyes.

"Why can't you look at my eyes?" he asked quietly.

He always catches me off guard like that.

I hate him for it.

I jumped slightly, and stared at him again, this time a little taken aback and nervous. My brows furrowed. I could feel him smiling at me. My heart was pounding rapidly in my chest, and my skin was crawling upwards, my cheeks red-hot. Averting my gaze I slowly stood up, keeping my dress down as I did.

I opened my mouth to say something, then totally lost my thought, and snapped it shut. He snorted. I smiled, and turned, pattering into the house. I heard him follow me and it made me jump again when he grabbed my hand. I glanced over my shoulder silently, and I almost recoiled at the fiery look in his eyes. Maybe he didn't notice what it did to me – my cheeks reddened even more and I froze, my throat tightening a little.

He took a step, pressing me up against the kitchen table, still holding my wrist, his fingers tickling mine. I drew in a breath, staring at his neck and then turning my gaze up (just a little, hah) to meet his steady one. His mouth was closed in a firm but gentle line, his eyes half-open and burning, but very calm. I think there was a spark of apprehension, but if there really was I wouldn't have noticed because I was the walking definition of apprehension at the moment. My breath started to increase as he leaned in more, and I don't know why, because he's kissed me like this before…

Maybe it was because my thoughts were coming back.

My arms found their way around his waist and pulled him closer. He didn't seem daunted. His lips dusted mine for a second, before they opened partially and we were kissing really soft and slow. I tilted my head off to the side slightly, letting my eyes shut.

Then I got another idea.

I opened my eyes slowly, just half-way, and leaned back a little more, causing him to lean more on me. The table was digging into my ass but that was okay. He looked so intent, his kiss getting more and more tender; his brows were furrowed delicately and his eyes shut, a look of complete pleasure grazing his features. I paused, leaving my mouth open on his, letting his lips work for a few seconds, before he realized what I had done and stopped, himself, peering out at me with his own slit eyes.

"What?" he murmured on my mouth.

"You make me feel weird," I said quickly, and immediately I didn't know if it had been the right or wrong thing to say. I felt my face heat up more, and my brows furrowed. His lips closed and my open ones were resting on his.

"What are you talking about?" he mumbled hoarsely, the pleasure leaving his eyes and confusion clouding in. My stomach dropped and then twisted up tightly. I knew he didn't know exactly what I meant and it made me love him even more for being so stupid. I stared at him silently for a moment, just breathing on his mouth and feeling him fidget slightly as he waited for me to go on; the more I opted to do what I was thinking the more anxious (but tempted) I felt.

"It's a really odd feeling," I whispered, trailing my hands off his tailbone and towards his hips. He froze, looking at me skeptically. I smiled as sweetly as I could, and then turned my face off his, murmuring into his neck as he loomed over me, my fingers sliding up into his shirt. My stomach rose up into my throat and my heart was beating so hard I was shaking a bit, but I wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. To an extreme.

Edward took a slow breath, slumping on me. I shifted, so that I was a bit straighter, but still allowed him to lean on me comfortably. I could see the front door and the breeze flitting by, making the lawn dance and the clouds in the sky beyond the hills thin out to wisps. He nosed his way up to my ear, and said in a raspy whisper, making me freeze in turn, "Do you mean…feel weird, in your panties?"

My breath caught in my throat and I pinched the skin my fingers had found. He howled in my ear and I giggled, smoothing my hands along his stomach. "Shh, you're ruining my plan," I hissed, but I was smiling. I looked to the floor, and for a moment I thought, Somebody needs to wash that.

I turned my head and kissed at his ear. He tensed up and his breath hitched with a squeak. I blinked, eyeing him some, and then smiled faintly and started to kiss up and down the outer shell of his ear, sighing against it, letting my tongue flick out on his lobe. His fingers curled into tight fists on the cloth of my dress (surprisingly, guess where? My upper thighs.) and he squirmed; and I know he was trying his hardest not to let me hear his gasps and whimpers, which were all squeaking, hoarse inhalations either way because of his constant rasp.

I nosed against his ear now, letting my breath dust his neck. His fingers crawled towards my crotch and for some reason it didn't make me as nervous as I'd expected. I let out a long sigh, my eyes falling half-open, and then quickly pushed his hands away with one of mine.

"No," I said. "I'm giving you a taste of your own medicine, Mr. Touchy Feely."

I didn't want to look at him because I knew that if I did, he would look so helpless, so flustered, so pissed at me, but utterly loving what I was doing, that I wouldn't be able to take it. I'd tell him to kiss me, to touch me, to do the thing that fulfills love; I'd completely crumble.

I traced my hands around his waistband until I found the button and zipper of his denim pants. They lingered there as I tried to think of what I was supposed to do, how stupid I was for telling him I was going to do something, and then I touched his stomach and immediately bit my lip in regret as he flinched.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" I whispered rapidly. "I forgot your bruises."

In fact I'd forgotten all his injuries; his purple cheek looked normal to me now.

"Shh," he cooed into my ear. "That's okay."

My heart gave a light jump and then started to pummel my chest again. I unbuttoned his pants and let my fingers see for me; I felt the soft cotton of his boxers and I pushed my fingers into the elastic band of those. He tensed up thoroughly on me, his hands moving up and down my back. I let my fingers tickle all over his abdomen, gingerly, because of his bruises, and his hips and a few inches into his boxers, all the while starting to get more and more nervous. His hands were soothing though and his breath made me shiver horribly.

Then I decided to go lower. My fingertips brushed something incredibly warm and slightly hard, compared to the rest of his skin, and my eyes shot open all the way, my breath catching in the very back of my throat again.

Jerking my hands out of his boxers and out of his pants, my knuckles hit his stomach and he groaned; I curled my fists under my chin and ducked my head, hiding my face against his shoulder and shuddering, squirming around slightly.

"Ed, Ed, Ed, Ed, Ed," I started to squeak over and over. I refused to look at him again. I didn't want to see the fear or the disappointment or the puzzlement on his face. I could hear it in his voice anyway.

"I – I…what? What? Are you scared?"

I took in a long, shrill breath, and nodded.

There was a silence, and then I felt him button his pants, and then hug me really tight. "S'okay," he murmured into my ear, his voice not squeaking but shaking. "Maybe we're going too fast."

"But I want you to do that to me!" I cried, hiding my face in my palms now. I wanted to cry.

Edward's voice cracked a slight raspy grunt. He tried to say something but it was just more squeaky grunts. I hugged him tight against me, shaking my head back and forth on his shoulder.

"Winry…" he said, but then he was quiet. I knew he was thinking, and I was so pissed at myself that I'd made him concentrate like that again. Finally he pulled away and looked at me with an embarrassed smile, a smile that made him look so much older than he really was.

"Let's go back up to your house. They might get suspicious or something."

My heart sunk. I'd failed in my medicine-dosage. I frowned, and stepped forward, hugging him tight and hiding my face in his neck.

"Sorry," he mumbled, and I shook my head quick.

"No, I'm sorry," I said squeakily. "I love you Edward."

He was quiet again. Then he smiled and pulled me with him as he walked out the door, moving the wood block and letting it shut. "I love you too," he mumbled. "Equivalent exchange, Winry. Just wait."

I watched him as he laced fingers with me. He didn't look at me. Then he led me out to the road and started to walk towards my house. I squeezed his hand apologetically.

Maybe our minds are working too fast for our bodies. Maybe we're just too nervous to do something. I knew by the way his eyes were burning at me that he wanted to do something to me, too.

I think I ruined it.

He glanced at me silently, his eyes smiling, and I smiled back with my mouth. He tightened his grip on my hand and I moved closer, wanting to apologize again for my stupid girlish anxiousness.

"I love you," Ed said again.

"I love you too."

I do.