Scar had just reached the door of his house when he heard the hum of wheels and the padding of feet as a rickshaw turned into the cul-de-sac. One of the passengers was Stanno. The other passenger was Winry, for which Scar was very relieved. Then he got a closer look and he froze.

Atash pulled the rickshaw in a curve around the fountain and came to a stop directly in front of Scar. The young puller's expression was a mixture of nervousness and anticipation, and he glanced back at the group behind him as he waited.

Winry stood up to get down from the rickshaw, her crop top just about at Scar's eye level.

"Just a moment, Winry!" Stanno jumped out of the rickshaw and hurried to the other side. "'Scuse me," he muttered to Scar, elbowing him out of way. Stanno held his hand out to Winry. "Allow me!"

"Oh, thanks." Winry let him help her down from the rickshaw, then she looked up at him. "Same time tomorrow?" she asked.

Stanno gave a bow of his head. "That'll be fine. I'm looking forward to it."

"And then we'll settle up, right?"

"You know what, Winry?" Stanno said, waving his hand magnanimously. "Forget about it. It's on me."

Winry's brows went up in surprise. So did Scar's, then they furrowed in suspicion. It was something of a relief to glare at Stanno so he could stop staring at Winry.

"That's very generous of you," Winry said. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. Bojil's one of my people, after all." Stanno grinned. "What sort of chieftain would I be if I didn't take care of my own?"

"Well, thanks! I appreciate it!" Winry gave him a wave. "I'll see you tomorrow, then." She turned to Scar. "Does Rada need help with dinner?"

"I…I don't know," Scar replied, stammering a little. "I just got here."

"Well, I'd better get inside and give her a hand."

As soon as Winry went into the house, Scar rounded on Stanno, who was calmly climbing back into the rickshaw.

"You know something," Stanno began, settling himself comfortably on the seat and stretching his arms across the back. "That is one abundantly attractive young woman. I just might have to amend my opinion of Amestrians."

Scar glowered. "You will keep your hands off her!"

"I didn't lay a finger on her!" Stanno gave him a look of wounded astonishment. "What do you take me for?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Mind you," Stanno went on easily, thoughtfully drumming his fingers against the back of the rickshaw seat. "She's a spirited little thing, and I am, after all, extremely eligible." His grin spread wickedly. "She could use my tools as much as she likes."

Scar lowered his voice with ominous rage. "You miserable, misbegotten spawn of a jhavahal! If you even think about—"

"Oh, please!" Stanno scoffed derisively. "You stole my woman, so I have to look elsewhere, don't I!"

Scar's eyes widened with disbelief, then narrowed again. He reached over and grabbed a fistful of Stanno's shirt. "I will break you and throw the pieces in the desert for the jackals!"

Atash gripped the shafts nervously, but Stanno calmly pulled himself out of Scar's grip with a chuckle. "Oh, Andakar, it's getting too easy to get a rise out of you!" He sat back and smoothed down his shirt. "Atash!" he called to the puller. "Get me out of here before I get injured!"

Atash loped forward, torn between relief and disappointment. He would still be the envy of the other pullers.

Scar stood seething as the rickshaw rolled away. He had once made a promise to his master to keep his temper with Stanno, and the old man would hold him to it. Scar had to wonder what sort of promise, if any, Saahad Bozidar had wrested from Stanno.

The first thing Rada said to him when he stepped into the house was "What's wrong?"

Scar shook his head and looked around the front room. "Where is Winry?"

Little Winry, who had been cruising around the table, looked up. "Doo?"

"She's gone into her room to change," Rada replied, still perplexed at the stormy look on her husband's face.

"Thank Ishvala for that!" Scar muttered, striding down the hall toward Winry's room. He hesitated for a moment, listening to the stirrings inside the room. Perhaps it wasn't his place, but she was under his roof and therefore his responsibility. Every deep-seated instinct in him was crying out, demanding that he take action. He knocked on the door.

"Yes?" Winry called from within.

"I need to talk to you," Scar told her.

"Okay. Go ahead," the girl replied. "Unless you want to wait until I come out."

Scar paused. No, this couldn't wait. "I warned you about Stanno, didn't I?"

"Stanno?" Winry sounded dismissive. "He was all right. I mean, sure, he definitely has some issues, but he was okay with me. He even said he wouldn't charge me for using his tools and materials. You heard him."

"Oh, I heard him!" Scar replied darkly.

Winry was silent on the other side of the door for a moment. "Uh…what exactly was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Were you dressed like that while you were at his workshop?" Scar demanded.

"Part of the time, yeah. It was hot. Stanno's used to the heat, and he even peeled his shirt off."

Scar shut his eyes. He didn't want to know that. "And you rode with him all the way back here dressed like that?"

Scar heard a slight snort of laughter. "I rode all over the place like that today."

Scar stiffened. "All over?"

"I even went out to the fort," Winry went on. "I had a lot of stuff to do today."

"And you were dressed like that? Or not dressed?" Scar's voice began to rise.

"I said it was hot today," Winry returned impatiently. She mumbled to herself for a moment. "I was sure I packed that blouse…oh, here it is!" She went on out loud. "What's the big deal, anyway? I did that all the time when I was working in Rush Valley."

"This is not Rush Valley!" Scar roared at the door, ignoring the stares of his family. "This is Ishval, this is my house, and that was Stanno you were riding with dressed like that! Sweet Ishvala, I must have aged ten years seeing- -"

The door was flung open and Winry stood staring at him with wide-eyed astonishment. Scar's mouth was still open and he shut it quickly. He couldn't tell if she was angry or offended or frightened, but whatever her expression meant, it did not seem to bode well.

"Are you…" Winry's voice was hushed with disbelief. "Are you scolding me?"

All of Scar's rage drained out of him as he realized the gravity of his mistake. He took a step back. "I…I'm sorry!" he murmured quickly and awkwardly. "I should not have spoken to you like that." Winry kept staring at him, and to his horror, her eyes started to fill with tears. "I…had no right!" he went on in desperation. "I'm not your fa—"

Winry's hand shot up quickly and she covered his mouth with her fingertips, silencing him. Then she drew her hand away and covered her mouth with both hands. Her voice came out in a muffled squeak. "Nobody has scolded me like that since…since…"

With a sudden sob, she wrapped her arms around Scar, clinging to him tightly, and she started to cry.

Scar stood paralyzed for a moment, then he turned his head to look helplessly at Rada. She only smiled and shepherded the children away from the hallway. Scar looked back down at the blonde head pressed against his chest, and he slowly and cautiously drew his arms around her, holding her close while she cried. Perhaps his instincts hadn't failed him after all, but he wasn't yet sure of what it was he had succeeded at.

The evening was growing pleasantly cool. They sat on a bench at the back of the house looking out at the kitchen garden. They kept a few inches of space between them while they maintained a calm but somewhat awkward silence. Winry was the one to finally break it.

She looked out into the garden, watching a cactus wren alight on the top of a stick at the end of a row of beans, cock its head at them inquisitively and flap away. "When I was about five or six," she began, "I got a hold of a scalpel from my dad's medical bag and started running around the house with it. As soon as my dad saw me, he started chasing after me. I thought it was really funny at the time, but when he caught me, he really yelled at me. He told me how much I had scared him."

She clasped her hands between her knees and kept her gaze on the ground. When she spoke again her voice was quiet and solemn. "Remember that day when we split up after we left Asbek?"

"Of course I do."

Winry gave a little nod. "May went back to Xing and you and Dr. Marcoh went off, too. I watched you walk away. Every time I watch someone's back moving away from me, I get scared because I don't know if I'm ever going to see that person again. When Ed told me that everyone figured you were dead, I just sort of shrugged it off. But later I went up to my room and cried." She glanced at Scar sideways. "I've never told anyone else that, by the way."

Not quite sure what this was leading up to, Scar just said, a little cautiously, "I'm honored by your confidence."

"I wasn't even sure what I was crying about," Winry went on. "I just felt like something was wrong. Like I got cheated out of something."

"Revenge?" Scar suggested quietly.

Winry's head whipped around toward him and she punched him in the arm, the one she had bandaged that day. "No! That's a dumb thing to say and you know it!"

Scar rubbed his arm and tried not to smile. "I'm sorry. I should have known better." He let out a quiet sigh. "That has been the pattern of my dealings with you, Winry Rockbell. I always should have known better." He studied her face, which was still furrowed in a grimace. "I offered you my life that day in Baschool, and you gave it back to me. No..." he added, raising a finger. "You handed it back to me. That gesture was a challenge to not waste that life, to do something right with it."

Winry's mouth opened slightly then she closed it. Then she declared, "Yes. I totally did that."

"You started telling me something about your father," Scar reminded her.

"Oh. Yeah, I did. There was a point in there, and I'm not sure how to explain it." Winry took a deep breath and frowned in concentration. "I really didn't expect to react the way I did before."

"I thought I had made you angry," Scar said.

Winry waved her hand. "No, I went clean past angry. It was strange. Well...strange to anybody but you and me, you know?"

"No," Scar had to admit. "I'm not sure I do."

Winry let out a little huff. "Granny has always taken really good care of me, and so have Ed and Alphonse, but there was still this empty spot in my life. It's been with me a long time and I've gotten used to it, and I figured it would always stay that way. But then you scolded me, which on the one hand was kind of silly, but you then said you must have aged ten years." She gazed into his face, a little defiantly, a little imploringly, as though she wasn't sure he would believe her. "That's exactly what my dad said that day when I was little. And...and that empty spot doesn't feel so empty anymore."

Scar was silent for several moments. He felt like a solemn, extraordinary responsibility had just been given to him. No, he thought with a slight smile. Handed to him. "I would not presume to ever take your father's place," he told her quietly. "But I am the one who created that empty spot in your life." He gave an inclination of his head. "What is mine is yours, and this will always be a home to you if you ever need it to be."

Winry leaned toward him, nudging his arm with her shoulder. "That's good to know." She grinned, not entirely apologetically. "Sorry I made you age ten years!"

Scar let out a quiet chuckle. "It may only have been a year or two," he admitted wryly. "Although I don't know what was worse, seeing you bursting into tears or seeing you half-dressed in that rickshaw with Stanno."

"I was not half-dressed!"

Scar was about to debate the point, but Rada looked around the doorway at them. "Dinner's waiting," she said, a gentle reminder that life was still going on elsewhere. "And Danika's getting worried."

Winry stood up quickly. "Coming!"

Scar stood up, a little more slowly. His knees felt a little weak, but he following Winry into the house with a lighter heart than when they left it.

Although no longer bound to the priesthood, Scar still considered himself a warrior, and he still rose early to begin the day with the ritual of prayer and exercise. By the time he was finished, the rest of the household would be stirring. He went back inside from the garden and paused at the hallway, hearing squeals and giggles, all of which seemed to be coming from Winry's room. The door was open and Scar went to peer in. From what he could tell, Winry and Danika were under the covers of Winry's bed, and Mattas and Little Winry were crawling over them, trying to find them. The room was filled with delighted squealing and laughter. Smiling to himself, Scar moved on. He had learned to accept blessings humbly, but none were sweeter than those that came unlooked for.