(Sorry, I accidentally updated the story without the introduction, lol xD -giggles-)

Okay, people! Sorry but this took me longer than expected. I've had this chapter ready for a while, but I haven't written chapter 7 yet. I didn't want to post until I had the next chapter done, but the heck with it!

Thanks for the reviews you guys; I really appreciate it, and it helps me keep this going. Lately so much stuff has been going on that I've had little time for anything at all, and the reviews help me maintain my interest in the fic.

Anyways, you'll all find out pretty damn soon what's in Russel's bag :P As for the people who guessed:

AliasAurora: you didn't guess right, but you made me laugh so hard with all your guesses (lol Dominatrix costume)! And being the first reviewer, you win :D I'm your b!tch now, lol. I'll do whatever sillyness you would like with this story (if it fits in ;)

SyberSweetHeart: you got somehow vaguely CLOSE in your guesses! Second prize? =3

DrummeristFan: no, you crazy woman, it ain't condoms (just yet). Ooops! I spoke too much :D

I'll reply to the reviews A.S.A.P.! Again, thank you so much for reading and reviewing. Now, on with it!

Disclaimer: I don't own FullMetal Alchemist. If I did, I'd have developed on the events of chapter 84 of the manga. Thee hee hee ^^

CHAPTER 6: BUMPY DINNER

Edward gripped Alphonse's arm and leered at him.

"Explain. Why is Russell here?" he growled.

"Brother, I thought you two were actually getting along?" Al looked apologetically at his big brother, hoping that the tight grip of the older Elric would loosen. It didn't.

"Well, Al, we kind of do… but not when Winry's around, especially when she's all amnesic and glitchy! What are they doing here anyways?"

"Are you jealous, oh brother of mine?" Alphonse couldn't help but tease his brother, which sometimes proved to be a bad idea. And this was one of those times.

"NO, I'M NOT! WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?? Just answer me!" Ed yelled so loud, he was sure everyone else had heard him, but he couldn't care less. Al winced, and nodded.

He explained to his brother that he had, three days ago, met Fletcher at the Library; they were happy and surprised to see each other there (and Fletcher had complimented Al on his fast recovery), so they talked and planned for the Tringhams' to come over for dinner tonight, since they were in town for the rest of the week. Al had just forgotten to tell Ed.

When they went into the kitchen, Ed's mood was even more aggravated.

"… So basically, you hit your head somewhere and now can't remember almost anything?" Fletcher asked.

"No, not much. A few things now and then, but they're too random to mean anything at all."

Russell leaned over the kitchen table and moved closer to Winry, speaking in a hushed voice. "Does that mean you don't remember about you and Edw-"

Before being able to finish his sentence, Russell was cut off by Ed, who suddenly jumped into the air and kicked his face with his left foot.

"Gah! What the hell was that all about??" Russell yelled at the oldest Elric, who replied in the same loud tone.

"I've got my eyes on you, you leafy bastard!"

The younger brothers sweatdropped and exchanged knowing glances, as the oldest ones glared at each other; Winry could swear that sparks of electricity were flying by in the air between them.

She merely sighed. "These guys… well, that Russell guy's not half bad-looking. I wonder if Ed is jealous of him?"

A wicked grin graced her lips, but no one seemed to notice it.

XXX___XXX___XXX

Al was going to try to cook a new recipe from a book he got from the Library, and Winry eagerly volunteered to do it.

Ed set the table as the Tringham brothers explained that they had made some fresh discoveries during their research (yes, Ed and Russell had finally calmed down). Oddly enough, Winry also seemed interested in whatever it was they were talking about – which kind of pissed Ed off, just a little.

Edward finished what he was doing and took his place on the table – right in front of the spot where Winry was going to sit in. He couldn't quite look at her right now, and was feeling incredibly awkward. Fortunately, no one – besides Winry herself, probably – had seemed to notice that he was acting weird around her. She, however, was being very cool and natural, and that unnerved him even more.

"How can she just act like nothing just happened? Crap… did I make it all up in my mind? I don't think so." He mused, mentally punching himself for being so stupid.

He looked at her again, when he thought no one was watching; actually, he more like eyed her longingly, trying to picture her in his mind wearing nothing but her panties and that black tank top. Actually, he'd rather lose the top… And he couldn't stop thinking about her thighs.

He cringed. He gritted his teeth and shook his head, trying to keep that mental image far away. He didn't want to think of her in this way, especially because of the condition she was in.

"Oh crap… not that damn bulge again…"

Clearly, he wasn't being very successful at it. Why did he have to daydream now? Why did he keep losing his concentration every time he so much as looked at some bouncy, plump piece of her bare skin?

"… could show you some of our research notes for comparison. I hear you were doing investigations of our own. We could complement each other's researches, right? Equivalent exchange!"

It was Fletcher who had spoken, thankfully breaking Ed's complex chain of thoughts. The teenager quickly averted his eyes and focused on the book sitting in front of him, which he promptly propped open; he read it uninterestedly so the words weren't forming coherent sentences inside his head.

"Hm! That sounds great, doesn't it bro?" Al asked his brother loudly. He thought Ed looked as if he were daydreaming about something.

"Huh?" he asked, suddenly aware on the four sets of eyes (Winry's included) that had fallen upon him. "Err, yeah, sure. That'd be good for all of us, sharing information." He said dismissively.

Russell was the only one that had recognized Ed's seemingly vacant expression. "I bet I know exactly what he's thinking about… man, is he head over heels for that girl." He thought to himself, and smirked slightly.

Alphonse smiled at his brother's positive reply and began reading the recipe book.

"For the meat, take the onion and the garlic and dice them – that's done – and cook them in a container in low flame…"

He took the onion and garlic that Winry had previously diced and threw them inside the pan, using a wooden spoon to stir them around as the heat gradually cooked them.

Winry waited a few seconds until they were a nice shade of gold before she poured the olive oil into the pan, and the sound of the mixture sizzling filled the entire kitchen.

Al continued reading the book.

"Well, the pasta's really easy to cook. It says here that it's better if the pasta is served al dente. What does this mean?" Al asked aloud, to check if anyone knew.

"It means you shouldn't over boil it; the pasta's not supposed to be too soft, but instead it should be a bit hard. Not raw of course, just not over cooked."

Fletcher had spoken, and he blushed ever so lightly when Al gave him a puzzled look.

"Well, that is an Italian recipe, and our grandfather descended from Italians so, err, I heard it somewhere at home."

Alphonse and Winry laughed at the boy's expression.

"Part Italian, huh?" she cooed. Ed's head snapped, a reaction caused by the tone of her voice. He still didn't dare to look directly at her.

"That's a distant country, but we've heard all sorts of exotic stuff about it. Nice food, nice desserts, nice landscapes, hot men…"

That remark caused an effect on everyone in the room; especially on Edward, who clutched the book tightly in his right hand, deforming its cover a little.

Edward had to use all the might in his body to prevent himself from throwing the book so hard at Russell's head that it would crack open, when the latter remarked "Looks like the rumors are true then, huh?"

Ed just wanted to rip that annoying cocky smile off his face. An anger vein popped on his forehead and bulged dangerously, and he suddenly forgot the whole 'Winry incident'. Fletcher seemed to notice the tension in the air, so he wisely decided to say something.

"Hm," Fletcher took in a deep breath and slowly released it, "It smells nice already. I love the smell of homemade food."

"Especially when the one who's making it is such a lovely-" Russell was about to make another stupid commentary when Ed – recurring to all of his self-restraint as not to punch him – stood up and spoke.

"Well, I like the smell of it too, but not on me. I'm heading off into the living room so I won't end up smelling like onion rings." He growled and stormed off into the living room, not before shooting Russell the 'you're-so-dead' look.

Alphonse had been sort of concentrated on making the food and wasn't looking directly at the table where his brother and the Tringham's sat, so he somehow only managed to hear this last statement from Ed.

"Are you trying to smell nice for someone, brother?" Al teased. He didn't get a real response from Edward; instead, the book flew randomly over his head, barely missed it and hit the salt container instead, knocking it over. Thankfully it didn't break with the fall.

Alphonse merely laughed – he was used to Ed's behavior, even though it had improved lately – and resumed what he was doing before. Meanwhile, Winry added the minced meat, the tomato pulp, and the salt; Al proceeded with adding wine and black pepper as the meat cooked. Oregano was also added and a few other spices, to enhance the flavor.

Winry had boiled a large pan of water and was now cooking the pasta with just salt and a little bit of olive oil. She covered the containers and lowered the flames underneath both of them, so the food would simmer by itself and not be over cooked.

As the smell of the food spilled all over the house, it opened up everyone's appetite and made their stomachs growl in protest.

After some time the pasta was done, and Al finished by throwing in a spoonful of butter into it and stirring it well, involving it carefully so it'd take in the sweet taste of the butter.

Finally, Winry called Ed (who seemed to have cooled off somehow) to sit at the table, and she set the large food trays in the middle of the table. There was enough food for about eight people.

"So, spaghetti à la bolognese, enjoy!" she chirped happily as she grabbed the large, bowl-like metallic spoon to serve their dishes. It looked and smelled absolutely deliciously.

"Cheese, anyone?" she asked, and everyone nodded in agreement. So Winry grabbed the cheese she had sliced previously and proceeded to serve: first, she filled the plates with pasta; over it, two thin slices of cheese; and finally, a spoonful of meat.

Ed licked his lips hungrily, and his eyes glowed in excitement as his nostrils continuously picked up and sent signals to the brain, constantly saying "OMG! Dis smells great, we has to eat it now!"

But he patiently waited for everyone to be served and until Winry sat down at the table and picked up her fork and knife; he didn't want to seem like a hungry animal, and he especially didn't want to look bad next to that damn Tringham and in front of Winry.

"Let's dig-" he began, picking up his silverware and licking his tongue. But he was cut off by Alphonse, who had forgotten to bring the drinks to the table – freshly squeezed orange juice for him and Fletcher, and the wine that Russell had brought with him.

Ed whistled and grabbed the bottle to check the label out, suddenly forgetting about his previous bad mood. "Wow, red wine? You drink this stuff?" he asked out aloud to no one in particular – though it was clear that he was directing the question to Russell.

"I brought three large bottles; the father of a friend of mine is a wine maker, and he offered us a few bottles of his best brand after we rid him of these annoying parasites that kept eating away at his grapes."

He noticed Ed's curious expression and asked him whether he'd ever had wine.

"Well, I've had a few sips of wine a few times before…" he said testily. Russel smirked and rubbed his hands together; he then grabbed the bottle opener (it was sitting on top of the table already) and, removing the wine from Ed's hands, proceeded to open it. After the 'pop', he poured wine inside his glass and Edward's, filling them till half. The smell of the wine was perceptible under the warm smell of the Bolognese sauce.

"Well then, you shouldn't have any problem drinking wine at dinner now, right?" the older Tringham said, drinking half the content of his glass and smacking his lips in contempt. He made a face for about a second; wine wasn't the sweetest drink in the world, though that particular brand was very pleasant.

Oh heck no. Ed wasn't very fond of wine – actually, he wasn't used to alcohol at all – but he was not about to act all weak in front of Russell. And Winry.

"Of course not. I actually think I'll enjoy this a lot more than the orange juice." Ed replied, repeating what Russell had just done; of course, he made a longer sour face, but he managed to drink the whole content of the glass. Whoah, the drink slipped through his throat like lemon juice, but it hit hard. It was a strong wine, he'd have to be careful not to get drunk and lose his grip!

"Hey, not so fast man." Russell teased, but Ed just stretched his arm and flicked his glass at the Tringham.

"Just shut up and pour some more in here. I don't like being thirsty during dinner." Ed replied defiantly. Was he trying to act all tough for Winry or just to spite Russell? Heck, maybe both. He could feel Al's reprehensive stare and he heard him protest, but he didn't care. He'd show Russell that he was better than him, that he could manage drinking some sappy grape juice just fine.

They were all a bit surprised when Winry herself got up, grabbed the bottle and filled his glass and hers as well.

"Don't look at me like that!" she argued, "We're all about the same age here, right? And besides, I've had wine before so it's no big deal. Shall we begin?"

That sure was a way to shut the guys up. When she smelled the wine, she remembered something… an old lady – her grandmother, she knew at once – and a house on top of a hill. Inside that house, a cabinet where the old lady kept her liquor stashed, and also some bottles of wine. She had drunk some of it before a few times, just for fun. And… to keep her in a cheerier mood when she missed Ed too much. It helped her forget how far away he really was.

Eh? She remembered something! But what a thing to remember, indeed; that she liked to drink wine! That was a curious revelation.

Ed was actually about to ask her about it, but he decided best not to. He was feeling a bit hungry right now, and the wine was slowly crawling its way into his head.

Finally, they began to eat. The reaction to the first bite was unanimous:

"Oh, wow! This is delicious!" Winry exclaimed and then blushed, feeling a little self-conscious. She didn't really like to boast about her culinary skills.

"It's sooooo good…" Al agreed, nodding and clenching his fist theatrically.

"It really is tasty! Hadn't had such a good meal in a long time. Thank you!" Fletcher gave his friends the thumbs up.

"Mmph, yup," Ed manage to say with his mouth full, "it'ff frickin' awefome." And he shoved another fork full of food into his mouth, chewing enthusiastically.

"Are you criticizing my cooking, little brother?" Russell asked menacingly, dark lines falling over his eyes, eyebrow quirked.

Fletcher pouted. "But whenever we don't eat outside in a restaurant it's me who does most of the cooking…"

Winry nodded and smiled as the Tringham's small squabble soon switched into a complex conversation about theories she completely ignored; and in the meantime, everyone ate seconds. Ed, as usual, still ate another plate of food.

Surprisingly, Alphonse decided he'd like to taste a bit of the wine too and Ed didn't oppose to it. In fact, Ed was already through his second glass and decided that he was enjoying it (maybe a little too much), so why not let his little brother have some?

They all talked about many things during dinner; a few of them were events that Winry kept wondering whether she had been involved in or not. Of course, the mood between the oldest boys had lightened – all thanks to the wine. However, she seemed to know somewhere deep down, that the slightest provocation would send Edward flipping over and about the place.

Alphonse had started a joke contest of sorts, and was now competing with Russel. At first the jokes were perfectly innocent, but they had now degraded into a sort-of dirty jokes competition (and everyone was mildly shocked at how the hell Al had been able to keep up with Russell's jokes, but he did). All in all: the only one who didn't feel woozy was Fletcher, seeing as though he hadn't had anything to drink besides the orange juice, but everyone was laughing so hard their cheeks hurt.

Fletcher finished his dinner and stood up to take the dishware over to the sink – he was probably the only one who could do it without endangering the dishes – and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl.

"Aren't you lucky Edward? Your brother and your girlfriend make one heck of a two-man cook team."

Ed choked at the boy's remark and reached out for his glass of wine – hoping that a sip would help clear his throat, but it just made him feel a little number than he already was. The young blond seemed to realize he'd said something awkward, so he chuckled and scratched is cheek nervously.

Winry's head snapped up and she cooed, "Really? So he is my boyfriend after all? You liar. I knew it!"

She threw Ed such a flirty look that it made everyone else in the room feel mildly uncomfortable – and then burst out laughing. Ed shifted on his seat and tried to clear his throat, still blushing, and turned his head to the other side, not wanting to look at her.

"N-no! I mean, err… it's none of everyone else's business anyways."

Alphonse decided to make fun of his older brother, yet again. "Ah, big bro, now it seems like you're the one with memory loss."

"What the hell does that mean??" he snapped, yelling at his little brother – who couldn't stop laughing – and raised a fist dangerously, ready to smack his noggin.

He stopped all of a sudden; went deep reed over the cheeks, dropped his hand and blurted out a croaked "Wh- what the…" before jumping in his seat and standing very still.

Still laughing, Russell managed to ask him whether he was ok, to which he replied with a very, very faint nod. His face looked awkward and blushed.

No one else realized it, but he was feeling quite unique at the moment. He was entrapped in a mild trance, so to speak – because of the wine of course, but mainly thanks to what Winry was doing to him.

He could clearly feel one of her feet rubbing against his groin under the table.

At least logic told him it could only have been her foot. He hoped that foot belonged to her.

Thanks for reading! R&R!

I know, I know, Ed is constantly embarrassed or choking or blushing – but hey, I reckon that's normal since he doesn't really have a clue on how to deal with these things. Of course, him being who he is (the Full Metal!) he'll eventually snap… right? :)

Next chapter: I'm not sure yet, but I almost feel sorry for Ed. Good thing the boy has some self-restraint!