Alphonse had arrived home at exactly 1:30 am. It was no surprise, as this had been the case for the past week or so. He was glad for the fact that it was the weekend the next day, so perhaps he'd be able to read a story or two in the newspaper before heading off to bed.

The crumpled paper lay on the couch. Edward had most likely sat on it while watching television again. Alphonse picked it up, shaking it several times.

Fritz Lang Questioned by German-English Man Assumed to be Representative from Disbanded Thule Society. Alphonse frowned, reading on. It appeared as if the director had been threatened for information by a mad he'd assumed to be from the Thule Society. He'd managed to slip away before the authorities had arrived. What on Earth could that have been about? Not that it bothered Alphonse much – the Thule Society had disbanded long ago when he and Edward had defeated them.

"Al?" Called a groggy voice from down the hall. Alphonse glanced up to see Edward walking towards him, rubbing his eyes. His hair was let down from the usual high ponytail, and he was wearing pajama pants two sizes too large.

"I'm home, brother."

"I can see that. Sorry I couldn't get you. Hectic week this time around..."

Alphonse nodded, turning back to his paper.

"Have you heard about Fritz Lang? Apparently, some guy threatened him, and now he's going on about how he thinks the guy was from the Thule Society."

Edward blinked several times at him. "Weird. I remember that guy. I talked to him once. You remember Fuhrer Bradley, right? That psycho? He looked exactly like him."

Alphonse snapped his head upwards with a look of disgust and confusion. "Fritz Lang is Fuhrer Bradley's doppelganger? Criminy..."

Edward nodded, seating himself down on the couch. "The guys probably just getting too old for his own good."

"But, Brother," Alphonse began. "What if there are other supporters of the Thule Society? What if they're trying to reopen to gate and manage to-"

"Nonsense, Al. Remember, we closed the gate in Amestris before coming back here." Edward replied softly, leaning back into the couch and crossing his arms behind his head. "Even if they wanted to, they couldn't."

"But what if there's a way to do so without needing the gate in Amestris?"

"Like how?"

Alphonse shrugged. "Who knows? Knowledge, physical evidence... heck, maybe you and I could hold the secret to the gate reopening. I mean, we are objects of that world."

Alphonse noticed a flicker of fear in Edward's eyes for a split moment without him moving a muscle. Edward stayed silent for a little while, staring off into the distance. Alphonse patiently waited for his brother to say something. His earlier discussion came back into his mind. Bunny had implied that there was something Edward was keeping from him. He wanted desperately to ask, but he kept himself from doing so. This was, after all, the first conversation they'd had without it turning into a fight. And Alphonse wanted to keep it that way.

Finally, the younger man stood up, and announced his retirement to bed. When he heard no response, Al glanced down to see that Edward had dozed off in his thoughts, and was now silently snoring away. Alphonse grinned, fetching a blanket from the cupboard down the hall, and laying it gently over his brother. Edward twitched in response. Alphonse stood there for a moment longer, watching his brother sleep. It seemed as if he'd finally recognized him again.

The clock had barely struck 7 when Winry had arrived at Pinako. The scent of caramel and chocolatl ambushed her nostrils once again, and brought a smile upon her face. Although the weather had begun to get warmer outdoors, the coziness of the bookshop was always the more comforting option. Looking around, the shop was deserted once again, as usual, but the faint sound of rustling coming from the back room behind the counter comforted Winry's worries. She decided to wait for a few moments, not wanting to embarrass Allan like she had the other day. Her eyes, in the meantime, skimmed the tops of the bookshelves, and she noticed small labels over each shelf. "Fiction; Mystery, Fiction; Horror, Fiction; Adventure", read the bookshelves along the front and far corner of the shop. The ones continuing down the far wall listed numerous other genres of fiction novels. Winry turned her head to look at the tall bookshelf, just across from the counter. It read "Almanac and Scientific Papers". Curiously, Winry slowly made her way towards the shelf, her eyes scanning across the row of books that were eye-level to her. Her fingers fished into the tight crowd of books and withdrew a semi thick tome-like book, with golden letters printed over its cover, reading 'Anatomy of the Guise, Volume I'. Winry's eyes squinted slightly. She turned the hard cover of the tome open, revealing the author's name, publication dates, and dedications. It seemed as if the author had dedicated it to his university professor, whom he'd seemingly shared a deep admiration for. Winry began to flip past the copyright rules and introductions, reaching the page that finally read "CHAPTER ONE" in big, bold letters.

CHAPTER ONE

The phenomenal influence of the human species has broken through history as multitudes of intelligence. The specific branch of biology and medicine, that considers the structure of living things, and is closely related to topics of embryology, comparative anatomy and comparative embryology, has been birthed through the common roots of evolution. Of course, the vast topic of such a subject has been broken down to numerous categories; the anatomical structures that can and will, when suitably presented or dissected, be seen by unaided vision with the naked eye, the studies of minute anatomical structures on microscopic scales, along with histology and cytology, studies involving deeper understandings of cells and the studies of tissues, relating moreover to-

Winry nearly jumped out of her skin when the sudden sound of someone clearing their throat rang from behind her. The blonde spun around, the thick book still in her arms to meet the eyes of-

Absolutely no one?

"Down here, madam."

Winry gulped and glanced downwards to find a small old woman standing before her, two fists clasped onto her hips and a smoking pipe sticking out from between her worn out teeth. Her gray hair was wrapped tightly in a bun at the top, just a little ways past the crown of her head. She wore flat surfaced oxford shoes on her tiny feet, an evergreen dress that almost covered her entire tiny body, with a white apron tied around her tiny waist, and finally, a pair of round spectacles perched on top of her tiny nose. Everything about this woman was small, except for the aura surrounding her. Regardless of her height and the sly smirk on her face, Winry still knew of the intimidation this woman was capable of.

"What's th' matter, madam? Cat got your tongue?"

Winry opened her mouth to reply but found her breath hitch in an instant. The blonde suddenly realized she was extremely, extremely nervous. The old woman noticed this, and threw her head back in a laugh.

"Hah-ahhh I'm juss' kidden ya'. What was yer name 'gain, madam?"

"Winry. Rockbell. Um! Winry Rockbell!" Winry breathed, giving the woman a quick bow. In return, the old lady rubbed her chin slowly, nodding and eyeing the blonde up and down.

"So I've heard. Yer our new employee, yeh? O'right then, lets git started now, shall we?"

Winry nodded, as the old woman smiled and turned around, walking back towards the counter. She glanced down at her arms to find the tome still resting comfortably on her forearms. Oh! I should probably put this ba-

"Ye kin borrow that if ye want." The old woman called without turning around. Winry shook her head.

"Oh, no, I was just looking, I didn't get very far-"

"But ye was right into it." The old woman finally turned around, smirking at her. Winry blinked in confusion. "Ye din't even notice me walk in, or whistle. I know love for a book when I see it, madam. And you juss' fell hard."

Winry's cheeks tinted pink as she muttered a thank you, realizing that arguing with this woman was beyond her. The blonde slapped the book shut and tucked it under her arms, following the old woman behind the counter and into the back door. Winry was surprised to see it lead straight into a small living room, with stairs next to the door, leading straight upwards. The living room was small, no doubt. Everything was tinted a beige-like colour, with hints of yellow. But perhaps that was merely the morning sun flooding in through the windows.

"'Ere you go, madam." The old woman said, handing Winry a beige apron. Winry took it with confusion.

"Uh... Why do we need aprons?" She asked. The woman smirked.

"Well, dustin' books, bindin' 'em and cleanin' up new ones are difficult tasks, m'dear. 'Nd I wouldn't wan't yer pretty blouse gettin' messed."

Winry's eyes widened. "Binding books? I have no idea how to-"

"You'll learn." The woman smirked for a moment, before letting it drop. "We used to have a real great business goin' on, bindin' books I mean. That is, before the war, of course."

"The w- Oh. Yes, the war." Winry gulped. She'd almost asked 'What war?'. That wouldn't have made her look good, considering the fact that not many people would be able to forget such an event. She still couldn't help but wonder what had caused such a war, and who had been fighting. Her guess was that Britain had had something to do with it. She made a mental note to ask Kain about it later. It would be nice to remember a few things about her world.

"Why would book binding go out of business because of the war, though?" Winry asked, clasping her hands behind her back modestly.

"The propaganda scare had really shaken people up, madam." The woman replied with a sour expression. "Writers got discouraged after their novels stopped sellin'. Everyone kept sayin' that they were juss' hoaxes to get more soldiers."

Winry nodded. "I understand."

The old woman cleared her throat several times, before straightening her back out. "Alright, time for business! The names Pinako by th' way, madam."

Winry nodded with a smile. So that was where the shop had gotten its name. "Please to meet you, Miss Pinako. I'll try to help in whatever way I can!"

"I'll be expectin' you to. Let's start with unpackin' these boxes. We got some used books in yesterday, and we need to start labelin' em."

Winry nodded. "Hey, doesn't your nephew work here as well?"

"Sure does." Pinako replied, gliding the box cutter over the tape that sealed the cardboard together. "He'll be down soon. He gets inspired sometimes, and stays up in his room writin' away in his journal. Or, his many journals, heh. That boys got quite the imagination, ye know. Last summer, he'd gotten through reams of paper. About 4 journals in th' course of juss' two months."

"Does he aspire to be a writer?" Winry asked, taking the large stack of books from Pinako and setting them down on the counter. The old woman nodded.

"Aye, and he'd be a darn good one at that."

"You're so confident in his talents." Winry smiled.

"Not juss' his talents, madam." Pinako shook her head. "A good writer usually writes 'bout things they know well about like the back of their hands. My boy Allan has been through much in his life." A sad and distant look overcame the old woman's eyes, and suddenly, fiery air around her turned to soot. "His father died in the war when he was juss' two. 'nd his mother, his poor mother... Before she was slaughtered, she lived th' nightmare that was another man's dream."

Winry froze and shuddered. Her mouth had dropped open slightly. "I... I..."

The old woman's eyes snapped up in surprise. "Goodness, me. Ye gotta forgive me for that, girl. You had me under a spell of some sorts."

"Forgive me."

Pinako waved a hand at her. "Ye shouldn't be, madam. You got a way with givin' people th' security to share anythin' with ye. Don't know how you managed to get all that outta my mouth with just two sentences."

Winry smiled and shrugged. "Thank you, I suppose. Its nice to know I'm trustworthy."

Pinako chuckled. "Aye, girl, but bein' too trustworthy ain't good either. It's enough to be carryin' your own weight, but too much of other's weight can be overwhelmin'."

Winry's smile dropped. Suddenly, the two women heard pounding footsteps making their way down the stairs. Allan revealed himself, wearing a sour expression on his face. He looked rather annoyed, until his eyes fell on the two women. His face crumbled into one of surprised, and he quickly gather himself up.

"Oh! Miss Winry! I'm sorry, I forgot you'd be here, I- OW!"

Pinako had slapped his back with a chuckle. "Allan, m' boy! First ye get down late, and then yer wearin' a pitiful look on yer face as if ye'd been denied yer rights as a human! We got a guest, for Christ's sake!"

"Ah, I'm sorry, Auntie! Writer's block had gotten to me, and you know how much I hate it..."

Pinako chuckled once again. "Heh, yeh, I know! I was juss tellin' Winry here 'bout yer passion!"

Winry smiled at the boy, and in return, Allan turned beet red.

"Y-You did what?!"

"Don't be embarrassed!" Winry laughed. "It's nice to see people being passionate about things! Really! I'd love to read some of your stories sometime!"

Pinako scoffed. "Please, yer easier off talkin' to a wall, ye are. He refuses to let anyone read anythin' except for me."

Allan grumbled under his breath as he tied the apron to his body. Winry's smile faded slightly. "That's alright."

"Well, if he's gonna wanna become famous, he's gotta be more open 'bout his work."

"Here, Auntie, this stack is done." Allan said, holding a stack of books out to his aunt. She took them with a nod, making her way to the back of the store. Allan sighed and turned to the blonde.

"Sorry for that... She tries encouraging me in the 'tough love' sort of way. Winry giggled.

"What were you stuck on?"

"I needed a new character, but I wasn't sure how to make them. I have a villain, a protagonist, the supporting characters... But I just needed a main supporting character, you know?"

Winry tapped her chin. "Well, your aunt was telling me that a good writer writes about the things that they know. Why don't you base the character off of someone you know?"

"May I base it off of you, Miss Winry?"

Winry blinked. "On me? Well, I suppose so... I'm not quite sure if my 'character' would be a very interesting one-"

"Nonsense!" Allan cried. "You are very interesting, Miss Winry! You'll be a very likeable character!"

Winry grinned. "Well, in that case, I suppose it couldn't hurt! But... on one condition."

Allan's face dropped in nervousness.

"I'd like to read all about my character once you've finished."

Allan gulped. "O-Of course..."

A.N: So sorry I couldn't update last week, guys. Schools getting crazy for me. I'll update when I can, but I doubt I'll have time to go perfectly on schedule. I'M SORRY OTL

On another note, a big thanks to Wikipedia for supplying me with an intro I could write for the Anatomy of the Guise. Isuckatsciencesomuchomfg

Review!