Oh, hai! It's me. I'm in ur fanfics writin ur stories. Wull, akshully mine. KK thx bai!

Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist. No matter how hard I wish I did.

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Poor,poor Winry. She was exhausted. A thick, oily scent hung around her. And her arms- oh, her arms! They felt as if they were going to fall straight from their sockets! Her legs felt like thousand-pound weights.

"What was today, Get Your Limbs Chopped Off Day?" Winry moaned as she stepped out of the Rockbell home. She felt as if she'd never worked so hard in her life. Summer had just begun, and already she'd been swamped with customers. Resembool was a small place, but children were always hurting themselves by playing round the river's jagged rocks or playing roughly, daring each other to do reckless things.

Then, there were the farmers. They were always lifting something heavy, and those few with automail already were damaging it, and some were injuring their arms so badly there was no other alternative except amputation. Of course, everyone always came to the Rockbell women for that type of thing.

Very few brave souls requested automail- about 7 or 10. But those few had kept Winry up for days.

In fact, not long ago, she'd stayed up two nights in a row because a woman who'd accidentally cut her hand off while cooking (Winry had no idea how she'd managed that) had wanted her new automail hand to have a very intricately designed ring made onto her new automail hand.

It was ridiculous.

Winry flopped down on the steps, staring out onto the dust road. She wondered what Ed and Al were doing, if they were okay, if…

Speak of the devil, and then some.

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"Brat."

Sylvia was pissed.

"Itsy bitsy."

Oh, she was absolutely livid-

"Queen of All That is… urp- Short."

Ed had recently discovered Sylvia's dislike of names that weren't the one she'd been born with. Each time he thought up a new one, he absolutely shook with laughter, finding Sylvia's obvious annoyance just utterly hilarious.

"Waste of Space."

Sylvia refused to say anything. She tuned out Ed's insults and instead focused on the clanking of Al's armor (What did he wear armor for, she wondered) and his description of the Rockbell home.

"Reddie."

Sylvia ground her teeth. Her hair was not red, damn it!

"Look, Sylvia, there it is," Al said suddenly, pointing. The Rockbell home was a good size, and brightly coloured- yellow, a colour Sylvia rather liked.

On the porch, a blonde haired girl sat, swinging her feet and petting a dog. She looked up and noticed them, and Sylvia swore she could see the smile on the girl's face from where she stood.

"The blonde on the porch is Winry," Al told Sylvia.

"Little Princess."

Sylvia ground her teeth and said, "Obviously, it took your puny brain quite a while to think up a simple word like 'princess'."

Ed, who had been walking beside her, smirked and said, "Don't get mad, Sylvia. It's not your fault you're a sniveling imbecile who-"

That was the last straw!!

Sylvia whirled and tackled Ed, one hand gripping a hand full of his shirt and the other pressed to the ground as they fell. As they landed, she straddled him.

"Listen, you," she spat, leaning close to him so as to get the point across clearly, "Nobody calls me anything other than my God-given name, and that is Sylvia Claire Harkart. Not Brat. Not Shrimp. Sylvia Claire Harkart. Can you say that? Repeat after me. 'Sylvia.'"

"Er… Sylvia," Ed was so stunned, he couldn't think of anything else to do.

"Claire."

"C-Claire."

"Harka-"

"What the hell?!"

Sylvia sat up straight, still not getting up off of or releasing her hold on Ed.

There stood Winry- a very confused, very freaked-out Winry.

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When you see a girl you don't know sitting on top of a in a rather (to certain people) provocative position on top of a boy you've known all your life, you're bound to get some rather strange images in your head. That's exactly what Winry's situation was.

The girl, an auburn haired cutie, straddled Ed, looking innocent. One hand clutched the cloth of Ed's shirt, while the lie flat on the ground beside Ed's head. Ed looked rather stunned, and, to Winry, calm.

Al looked as if he wanted to blush. Winry didn't know how this was possible; Al was a suit of armor with no facial features. Maybe it was just the feeling he radiated.

Whatever. That didn't matter now.

Winry surprised herself by feeling angry. When she'd seen the girl tackle Ed, she'd jumped up and run all the way out here, just to see this? Some kind of romantic-

"Er, Sylvia?"

"Yeah, Ed?"

"Could you get off me now?"

"Sure… sorry 'bout that."

"No problem…"

Very slowly, the girl- Sylvia Ed had called him- released his shirt and stood. Just as slowly, Ed sat up and rose to his feet.

There was silence. Winry crossed her arms. "So, Ed. Can I help you?" she asked coldly after a moment. There was a pause.

"I need my automail fixed."

"I ought to punch you."

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Phew!

I love this chapter. I just really like it.

Review!