A/N: This one is straight out of left field. I don't usually go for outlandish "Plot? What plot?" humor, but this just happened. Coincidentally, this is about the level my brain is working at this evening.
45. Vexing
"Come on, what the hell d'you think you're-"
The cell clanked shut and the guards left without listening to a word of Ed's rantings. He sighed, brushed himself off, and got to his feet- only to be knocked back over by a fist.
"Bastards took my toolbox," Winry muttered as she rubbed her knuckles.
"What the hell, Winry?" said Ed from the floor, rubbing his head. She was sitting on the cell's bed, legs curled under her and holding the nearly-flat pillow.
"What the hell did you do to get us arrested?" she asked in a dangerous calm.
Ed got back to his feet a safe distance from her reach. "Me?" Why do you automatically assume it's my fault?" he shot back.
Winry glared. Ed reconsidered his angry question.
"Don't answer that."
"Jackass."
Neither seemed to have the strength to argue. Ed noticed the dark circles under her eyes, and the bend in her normally impeccable posture. He dropped his crossed arms and took a seat on the floor by the head of the bed. "It's just for the night, so get some sleep," he said. Winry didn't need telling twice and slumped onto the bed.
"'Spose it's better than getting shot at."
Ed chuckled and ruffled her hair. Winry sighed and closed her eyes.
"So seriously, what did you do?"
Ed sighed. "I kinda called the Flaming Fürher a bastard."
"What?"
"…again."
"What?"
"Fifth offence and all."
"WHAT?"
"He's a jerk!"
SMACK.
"Ed you are the most vexing person on the face of the planet," she fumed. "I'm surprised Mustang doesn't have you locked up on principle."
"I'm surprised you just used the word 'vexing,'" he laughed, and ducked another slap.
"You're gonna have a wrench permanently lodged in your skull at this rate!"
"Only if you can catch me when we're out!"