Disclaimers: Don't own FMA.

A/N: Winry's POV. (Any typos, please excuse.)

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Methods of a Practical Girl

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During school, I had been too anxious of my plans for afterwards to even start to worry about Edward. Alphonse had told me during break that he was very distraught today (distant, quiet, and disheartened), but not until I was climbing the steps up to the library and thinking Look at me, I'm just like Ed now, doing research la la la did it really hit me that something was wrong with him.

He had seemed to be clingy, but yet uncomfortable doing anything but holding me. He kept resting his head on my shoulder. He was quiet, smiled more than he usually did. He looked tired, weak, and spent. His eyes didn't speak as much as they normally spoke. My stomach churned as I reached for the handle of the vast library doors.

The hush inside the library comforted me. I swallowed down my nervousness, my heart starting to race uncontrollably. What if he was just upset because of what had happened yesterday afternoon; what if he was upset because he was thinking too much about…about doing that stuff to me? About me being scared?

I stepped up to the front desk and swallowed back my fears that I'd done something wrong. What I was doing right now would make everything better. Of course it would; I mean, come on. I was researching.

The woman behind the desk looked over the black rims of her spectacles at me. "Yes?" she murmured, her voice crisp but low, as if that was the highest volume she was able to reach thanks to years of doing librarian work.

"Um…I need the…" I stared at her a moment, frozen, my eyes wide, wondering how the hell I was to phrase this. "I need…the…research section."

She pointed with her pen.

"No, I mean…like…human kind. Like, anatomy, psychology, stuff like that."

She peered at me with impassive, beady eyes.

"Human biology," I added rapidly, feeling my skin crawl with either sweat or shivers, both products of embarrassment. "Physical, emotional, mental, the works of humans, anything."

She pointed in a different direction and then advised slowly, "Honey, most of these books you're asking for are very adult. Do you know exactly what you're looking for?"

"I am a very adult person." I looked at her levelly, then added, "Thank you," in a breathless squeak and clacked off towards the bookshelves she had pointed to. I could feel her eyes on me as I did so.

I scanned the shelves, dragging my fingers across the book spines, my brows furrowed in concentration. Alphonse had also told me that he was worried that they were doing their own research too meticulously. The two never told me anything about their research; that Al told me he thought they were doing it to the point of harm meant that something had to be wrong. Had to be. I always told them not to push themselves, but I never doubted that they'd ignore me. Obviously they had.

Had Edward found something in some book that had made him so restless, so despondent? Had he realized that he had no hope? Had he thought too much, something else I told them not to do, and thusly stumbled upon a notion that shattered his entire happiness?
As I thumbed across the books, not really looking anymore, I realized that he really hadn't seemed very happy the past week. The only possibilities, I thought, trembling, biting my lower lip as my stomach knotted up, were that he had gone too far in his studies, he had been thinking too much, or I had done something.

Either way, I was absolutely sure that what I was researching now would make him a little happier.

And my entire disposition brightened up as my finger landed on it. I straightened up and broke into a smile, drawing in a startled breath. "Yes," I gasped, and pulled the tiny hardback book out of the shelf. Opening it up, I felt a shiver crawl up and down my spine and a heat bloom into my face at the minute text and the diagrams.

Snapping the book shut, I turned my gaze back to the shelf and pulled a second book out. Then I tucked them under my arm, and trekked back to the front desk, feeling a sense of accomplishment with fear and unease looming behind it, utter concern and love drenching everything else.

I wasn't all that embarrassed as I handed the books to the librarian, but the look she sent me made me blush deeply. Frowning as adult-like as I could, I said gently, "Get over it."

She stamped the books and sighed, turning her nose up at me. "September 10, they need to be back, Miss. Good luck with whatever…project you're about to commence with."

"Oh!" I said, another idea occurring to me. "I have a question." She sent me another look, one that now read Shh, voice down, you're in a library. I blushed further. "Um," I went on, "do you have anything on prosthetics, mechanics, stuff like that? Any newspapers or articles or anything documenting current discoveries?"

"No," the old bat told me, and went back to what she was doing. Something inside me was pulled and strung ruthlessly, resonating through my body – my temper. I gritted my teeth, but offered her a bright smile, my eyes sharp as I fought a glower.

"Thank you," I said loudly, and took my books, turning and securing my bag on my shoulder. Then I pushed outside and stomped down the concrete stoop, letting the heavy doors bang into the threshold behind me.

Pausing, I looked at the books in my hands and felt my heart flutter in my chest. Oh, yes…I'd make Ed feel better. I wanted to, yeah I did. My face heated up. I was willing to do anything to make sure he was happy. I loved him, love him that much.

Opening my bag, I shoved the books gently into it among my schoolwork, swallowing. As my fingers left the hard covers of the library books, my entire body shuddered with one nervous quake. The titles of the books I'd just checked out were Sex and Intimate Relationships: Physical, Mental, and Emotional, both from the psychological section of the human research bookshelves.

I snapped my bag shut and started down the road towards the hills, wondering if Edward and Alphonse were home yet and what they might want for dinner.