Anniversary
The day creeps up on them without their noticing, and before they know it, there is only a month to go until their first wedding anniversary.
"We ought to do something," Al says, the surprise evident in his voice as he stands in the kitchen lifting up the first flap of paper on their calendar to observe the month to come. Winry, equally taken aback, agrees.
Ed wanders blearily into the room a few minutes later, dragging the heel of his hand across his face; he has pulled a chair out from under the table, sat down heavily and dumped his head on the table before he notices them. He raises his head and peers owlishly at the pair as if he has only just woken up- which, as they both realise, is probably the case.
They continue their discussion, punting the suggestions across the table to each other, and don't bother to explain. He seems content with being ignored, having worked out the topic of the conversation almost immediately, and merely watches, his sleepy, honey-thick stare travelling back and forth between them as they offer up propositions to each other; observing them as their ideas grow more and more extravagant, their requests increasingly splendid and lavish- and impossible, he thinks, and expensive.
Eventually he feels obliged to step in and put a halt to the exchange before the sheer improbability of their plans grows large enough to crush them all. "Don't you think that's a bit over the top?"
They fall silent at once and stare at him, not so much out of shock at his statement as because over time they have begun to severely doubt his consciousness and ability to form words.
Surreal as it feels to be asking Ed for advice on her romantic endeavours, Winry feels that this time it is necessary to make her point. "Then what do you suggest?" she pouts, putting her hands on her hips and glaring pointedly at him, daring him to respond.
Ed blinks once or twice, also unable to believe that she has asked him such a question. "Well, "he says hesitantly, "you should lay off all the swans and doves and lilies and all that crap, for a start. I dunno, something simpler than that would be better- more realistic- and you know, do you really need all that stuff to say things to each other? Aren't words enough?
"I mean," he interrupts himself as if he has just thought of something, "not that you don't talk or anything, but you could have a ceremony or something, and renew your vows- maybe even write your own, specially. Something like that," he finishes nonchalantly, reaching past them for the fruit bowl on the other side of the table.
He is halfway through his apple by the time he realises that they are gaping at him, unmoving. "What?" he asks, the fruit dangling precariously from his fingers.
Winry pauses for a moment to assemble her brain into working order- then turns to Al, who still appears stunned. "Well then," she says in amazement, "I never thought I'd say this, but it looks like we should ask Ed for advice more often."
Author's notes: Written for a laugh, mostly. XD