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Branded	By : ibshafer Category: Fullmetal Alchemist > Het - Male/Female Views: 13845 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Full Metal Alchemist, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
* Just a note to all you yaoi readers out there: the statement noted with a “*” is not a veiled
indictment of RoyXEd yaoi (I LOVE RoyXEd yaoi!); this comment is just that – a comment made
by Winry, who in fact, is most likely not a RoyXEd yaoi reader… I’m just saying… ;-)

Title: Learning Curve

Part: 3/7 (Branded – series)

Author: ibshafer

Rating: R

Character/Pairing: EdXWin… or is it WinXEd?…

Disclaimer: I don't own these people, they own themselves and are just nice enough to let me spin
them around the page now and then.

Summary: In which Edward and Winry get some alone time…and in which the course of true love
runs anything but smoothly…

Warnings: sexual situations, but nothing too explicit

Genre: Fullmetal Alchemist; AU, I guess…

Spoilers: none

Feedback: Yes, please…

Learning Curve

~ibshafer

Ed was remotely aware of the fact that he was smiling and that it was likely that he had been doing
so for some time now. He knew this because his face, somewhat unused to this particular
arrangement of muscle over bone, was screaming at him to just ‘lay the hell off and relax already!’

He was pretty sure this was the best he'd ever felt in his entire, miserable life; a combination of being
warm, safe, fed and dry (four things he very rarely was at the same time), and feeling secure and
cared for (two things he never, EVER was).

In short: it was shaping up to be Edward Elric’s best day ever.

The cherub that stood in for his heart had gotten a real workout and until just recently, had been
banging itself against his ribs with manic glee. Similarly, the rest of Team Elric, whose spirited
cheering had sounded somewhat like blood rushing in his ears, had finally exhausted itself and was
now happily sleeping in another room, collective mouths agape.

Sleep was sounding pretty good to him, too. In fact, sleep seemed to be a biologic imperative at this
point, but there was an odd sound in the room, one he was for a time hard-pressed to put a name to,
until, with a <bing!> of comprehension, it came to him, in the way that all things outside of
ourselves, eventually, do…

“Winry?”

She was no longer breathing heavily – he remembered now that they’d both been doing a lot of that
not too long ago – but her respiration still wasn’t entirely normal; it was oddly uneven and kept
catching in the back of her throat. She’d also rolled onto her side, away from him, which he thought
was strange.

Chapter 3 had said women liked to cuddle afterwards, but she wasn’t acting like she wanted to do
that. Hadn’t she read chapter 3? (Edward had to admit, after Chapter 2, and particularly, after
Diagram 4 in Chapter 2, he’d been somewhat inclined to stop right there… well, at least for a little
while…)

If he didn’t know better, he’d have said she was crying…

“Y-you OK?”

He touched her bare back with a flesh finger, gently, he’d thought, but she flinched all the same and
buried her head in the pillow, lungs still hitching oddly.

There could be no mistaking it now: Winry was crying.

Denial, that smooth talker, no doubt drawn to the Speech Center by the previous commotion, offered
up a thought.

Maybe she’s crying tears of joy?

Edward looked at her shaking form, knowing damn well that were she joyful, as joyful as he would
have thought she’d be after what they’d just done together, the Winry he knew would for damn sure
not have expressed that joy with tears…

What if…

What if he’d hurt her?! He’d never done this before, what if he’d gotten carried away and not been
gentle enough? Or at all?

He’d never forgive himself if he’d hurt her!

He rolled toward her, hand poised above her smooth shoulder, wanting to touch her again, worried
she might not want him to.

“Did I… Please tell me you’re okay, Winry. Did I… did I hurt you?”

And then he did touch her and she let him, ever-so-slightly leaning into his hand.

She drew her face from the pillow, but still didn’t look at him.

“It… It’s okay, Ed…” She paused for a moment, as though unsure what to say. “I-It was my first
time, too. I knew it was gonna hurt…”

He had hurt her!

His head filled with air and the room started to tilt to the left and right.

Before he had the chance to transmute his hand into a sledgehammer and pound his own skull in, she
was speaking again, her voice calm, if a little breathless.

“It’s not your fault, Ed. It was gonna happen no matter what…” She straightened a little, wiggling
tentatively. “It’s not so bad anymore, really,” she said, but her voice was unsteady, her tone
contradicting the statement. He saw her reach up to brush a fresh wave of tears from her cheeks.

Not so bad anymore…

So why was she still crying?

“Then… then what’s wrong, Winry? Shouldn’t you be… I dunno, singing or something?”

He saw her jaw tighten and while he wanted to think she was suppressing some mirth at an
inadvertent joke he might have made, he seriously doubted that was it. In fact, he could almost hear
the Angry collecting itself in her lithe frame, building itself up for the meltdown to come.

“This was a big thing for me, Ed,” she cried, voice rising an octave, face still fixed to the far wall
where a decorative array of hand tools lay spread out on a dusty shelf. Ed noted that the while the
shelf was in need of a good, focused clean, the tools themselves were well oiled and fairly sparkled,
unlike their owner who was looking brittle and self-righteous at the moment. “A really big thing!”

“For me, too!” Ed blurted out, pulling himself up on his elbow to peer into her reddening face.

Feeling him loom over her, she curled in on herself again, pulling away from him.

“I’ve thought about being with you, l-like that, for a long, long time,” she whispered, the tears
starting to fall in earnest now.

Ed shook his head, listening to his brain rattle against his skull for a moment.

Just what the hell was she talking about?

So, she’d thought about having sex with him and they’d had it. (As the word “sex” tumbled across
his frontal lobe, the geeks in the Speech Center sprang instantly to attention, roused from their
previous stupor by the sound of a word more interesting than they were normally used to hearing,
and set off at a run, chasing it down into the far reaches of Ed’s medulla oblongata, tripping over
each other to get to it first.) Ed failed to see the problem here.

Want + Have = Good. Right?

Winry spoke again in a teary, breathless tone, her voice so quiet, he almost couldn’t hear her.

“I’d built it up in my mind until it was this huge thing and… and…”

Edward sighed heavily, suddenly annoyed with her.

Wasn't it just like her to not be happy when everyone else was? Wasn't it like her to not be satisfied
with anything?

Satisfied...

The word jumped out of the internal speakers in the Speech Center and bounced around his cranium
a few times before it knocked into the lobe that handles comprehension and stuck there.

Satisfied...

She wasn't satisfied.

Oh, no… I --- I s-suck…

~*~*~

Winry was trying her damndest to stop sniveling, but her eyes had decided they didn’t care what she
wanted to do, they were gonna leak all over her face and pillow whether she liked it or not.

Besides, it’s not like she didn’t have a reason to cry.

Earlier, she’d listened to him over there, on the other side of the bed, as his breath had finally begun
to wind its way back down to normal. Every so often, he’d let out a soft, faintly satisfied sigh. It was
a gratifying sound, one that might have made her smile and feel a little light in the head, if she
weren’t feeling light in the head for another, less happy reason.

Not for the first time, she’d begun to wonder how she was going to tell him.

Maybe she didn’t have to.

How could she not…?

From the noises he was making, and those he’d been making not too long ago, there could be no
doubting how Edward felt right now: blissed, happy, satisfied.

If only she could say the same…

~*~*~

He was about to start apologizing and begging her forgiveness, when pride and rage got into a
fistfight over who was going to talk first. Pride won, of course.

This couldn’t be his fault – he’d done all the work – maybe she was supposed to do something, too?
He’d taken care of him, maybe she needed to take care of her? That was it: she must have forgotten
to do something. Afterall, he had a book, but she was the one with all the information. She swore
this was her first time, but she sure knew an awful lot for a virgin…

Just then, Ed heard the words bouncing around his head and felt like every bit the major shit he was
acting.

He wasn’t being fair to her, pride be damned…

(Pride stuck its tongue out at him and stalked off for the snack bar.)

Sure she was emotionally obsessive, downright abusive, sometimes, and sure, she’d practically
raped him in the hallway last night (well, maybe that was going a bit far), but that didn’t mean she
wasn’t innocent. It just meant that she’d thought about doing this …a lot.

And that she’d really, really wanted to do this with him…

Ed took in a deeply grateful breath and let it out slowly.

Well, at least one of them was happy about that…

~*~*~

She’d been kind of amazed at how little he’d known. Stunned, in fact.

Out there on the road all those years, looking like sex on a stick (with a candy coating), how was it
that no one had approached him? How was it that he hadn’t thought of it himself? Not that she
wasn’t pleased he hadn’t tested those waters with some damsel in distress in some back-water, back-desert town, but she wasn’t an idiot; she wasn’t delusional enough to think it was because he’d been
saving himself for her.

No, that was her particular torch to carry. Along with her toolbox and her link to his past. Come to
think of it, it was a pretty damn heavy load…

But still, he was grand and quite glorious, all 5 foot, 2 inches of him.

Winry suppressed an inward shiver as an image sprang to life on the big screen in her head: 12-year
old Edward, fully recovered from grueling automail surgery and an inhumanly brief recovery
period, sparring with his now armored brother down by the river, jumping like a flash of lightning
through the grass, practically flying over Alphonse’s spiked head, muscles etched beneath his pale
skin, his body not like any 12-year old she’d ever seen.

He’d taken her breath away and just twelve herself, she’d hardly understood why…

But here it was five years later and he knew nothing about … that? Hadn’t he ever been curious?
Hadn’t he ever been offered the chance?

Well, ignorant or not, curious or not, he was here with her now, interested, eager and very, very hot.

Oh, god…

She’d shivered, just looking at him.

She vowed to make the experience a life-changing one for both of them and though he was hesitant,
still unsure of protocols or procedures, and she herself had never actually had the chance to put
theory into practice, she’d boldly taken the lead…

He’d been oddly quiet at first, but then she’d reminded him that Granny and Al were at that very
moment on a train speeding in the opposite direction and that their nearest neighbors were more than
five miles away.

Kissing him on the throat, she’d told him to make all the noise he wanted to.

He’d blushed his beautiful head off, she’d been blushing herself, amazed at her own words and her
own actions, but he’d happily complied.

Early on, she’d noted that he was quick to let her know what he liked, but as time went by she
realized it’d be more accurate to say that he simply liked everything: her fingertip circling a nipple
– good; her tongue behind his ear – gooood; an earlobe drawn between her lips – very good.

Edward had sighed and giggled and hissed in turn and she’d been pleased: happy that she could
make him happy.

Still in the blind-bliss stage, she hadn’t noticed certain things.

If she’d been paying attention, if she’d been thinking about someone other than Ed, say, for instance,
herself, she might not be in the situation she was right now…

~*~*~

Where did she learn to do that?

Ed’s hormone-saturated brain was foggy with pleasure, his skin sensitive, his muscles seemingly
useless. He was putty in her skilled mechanics hands. He was Putty Boy – unable to do more than
feel and, every so often, go spastic with pleasure. He’d forgotten how to use his legs. He’d forgotten
his arms were attached to his body. He’d, basically, forgotten he had a brain. (His brain, for its part,
was quite miffed about that.) In short, he’d plum forgotten there was something that could, if
directed, animate said arms and said legs to do interesting and pleasurable things to anyone, say,
within fingers reach; anyone, say, doing interesting and pleasurable things to him with arms and
legs. And fingers and lips. And…

Ed’s brain went white and he forgot to breath for a little while…

She was running her hands over his chest, touching places with her tongue he’d never considered
having touched that way before and as some of his blood boiled up into his ears and the rest of it
rushed in the opposite direction, it never occurred to him that he needed to be doing anything other
than enjoying the hell out himself.

Which he was.

Oh, boy…

~*~*~

Ed’s moans were almost thanks enough.

Winry had heard Ed moan before but usually as a result of some manipulation of his arm or leg port,
or the corresponding appendage, and never, ever, did it mean something good. (Though she did
recognize the glazed look in his amber eyes…)

His mouth had fallen open, his jaw was slack, and his golden eyes had rolled back into his head.
And she hadn’t really done anything yet…

She felt all-powerful, she felt important, to him; she loved seeing that look on his face and knowing
she’d put it there. She would have gnawed her own left arm off (and then replaced it with automail,
of course), if it meant she could make him look like that for the rest of her life.

And while he was enjoying the hell out of this, she was too. He was beautiful and warm and his skin
tasted salty sweet and she knew she should have been scared, she knew she should have been shy,
but this was Edward and he was finally hers and she was holding nothing back.

~*~*~

It would surely have surprised anyone who knew him, or anyone who had ever met him, for that
matter, but Edward Elric would actually be the first one to admit he was control freak.

As a point of fact, he was actually quite proud of it. It had served him well over the years. Where
would he and Alphonse be if he’d regularly surrendered control of their lives, what portion of hell?
He was not so arrogant, though, that he didn’t see when he would be better served by surrender.

So when they’d finally made it up the stairs, after having to stop at various points between the
kitchen and her bedroom, he’d announced in what he thought was a magnanimous gesture, that he
was going to “let her drive…” After all, even with that most amazing sexual resource, The
Bastard’s Sex Manual, as Ed had come to think of it, she still seemed to know so much more.

With a blush most endearing, and indeed, most gratifying, Winry confessed that in preparation for
the day, if it ever came, that they were going to do …what they were currently about to do, she had
been gathering …information. For years. (Ed’s face had flushed hotly at this.)

She’d read everything she could get her hands on. She had coaxed details out of her more free-spirited friends, spent time in the library in the dark section, (the librarian, no doubt in an attempt to
discourage underage curiosity, had chosen to remove nearly all of the light bulbs from the aisle on
human sexuality…) and had even opened a special, anonymous box at the post office to receive
additional mail order materials without her grandmother’s knowledge. (Pinako would have locked
her in the basement with nothing but a rubber band, and then, only after having removed every
single piece of metal from the room…)

She said she’d spent many, many hours thinking about what she would do with his body if … if she
were ever able to touch him without a wrench in her hand. In doing so, she appeared to have given
her considerable imagination free and wild reign.

All of which one Edward Elric was about to become the recipient of…

~*~*~

Edward, for his part, was extremely appreciative of her imagination.

Which was actually quite sad, as he seemed to have disappointingly little of it himself…

The voice of her fair-minded side reminded her that this was all new to him, too, and he had just
been so overwhelmed with what he was feeling, what she was making him feel, that that coupled
with his inexperience understandably made him a little … self-involved.

She’d reminded herself, with not a little displeasure, that he’d always been a little self-involved.
Except when it came to his brother, of course, and then with a devotion that was all consuming, awe-inspiring and, frankly, made her almost long to lose her own body, too.

Almost…

So, she wasn’t actually surprised that she hadn’t … quite… gotten there that first time. After all, it
was a first for her, too, and there were certain … certainties involved with that milestone. Pair that
with a partner unaccustomed to being with “anyone” other than his right (or was it his left?) hand
… and it was not only understandable, it was to be expected. If she’d been seeing him with anything
other than eyes blinded by a sheer, all-consuming devotion of her own, she might have even
predicted it…

And so, an hour later when she felt him press himself urgently against her back – if she hadn’t
already been laying down, she would have fallen down from the jelly feeling that suddenly
weakened her knees – and start to kiss her neck with real fervor, she was more than ready for
another go…

Ten minutes after that, he again lay panting happily beside her.

And she? Again, it’d be unfair to say she’d taken no pleasure from it. She loved touching him,
tasting his skin, seeing the bliss she brought to him. And he was energetic and very strong and
wonderfully hard in all the right places – but again… no ending…

And so after giving herself so freely, after everything she’d done to please him, to not … quite… get
there herself: Winry was understandably frustrated…

Actually, she thought she was handling it rather well - the Rockbell women were tough as set screws
- but there could be no denying what she was feeling, and that in the wake of their second try and the
fact that he’d been utterly oblivious to her… incompletion, she was actually beginning to wonder if
they’d ever get this thing right…

~*~*~

It’d been so promising, too. He was so wonderfully good at kissing – rough and gentle in turn, warm
and really quite passionate. And his hands, he’d known what to do with his hands; she especially
liked the cold/hot feeling when he touched her with his flesh hand and his automail hand at the same
time.

But that was on the back porch. And in the upstairs hallway before everyone else was awake. And
on the kitchen counter after Granny and Al had left for the train station…

Blushing suddenly, she’d taken his hand – he’d been beautifully pink himself – and led him upstairs
to her room.

Morning light was streaming in through the open bedroom window, casting his glorious body in a
honeyed glow that made her shiver, making his golden hair, loose around his shoulders, look like a
thing alive.

They started with an extremely satisfying make-out session in the doorway, wherein she introduced
him to the concept of the “dry-hump” and he very willingly took the hint, and her proffered breast,
touching her there for a good, long while, a look of wonder on his face the entire time.

His ragged breathing, and the tiny appreciative sounds he made, put her in a trance. For a moment,
she could do nothing more than look at him.

From the expression on his face, it was clear he’d seen the expression on her face… and knew what
it meant. For once, the ever-impatient Edward Elric didn’t push; he was content to stand and be
appreciated…

She marveled at his body; a body not just made complete by automail, but perfected by it.

She’d once been told that the material she’d used to make his limbs had been too heavy making the
strain on his system too great, possibly stunting his growth, but she didn’t believe that to be true. If
anything, it was the opposite. She’d often mused that she had made his body, not just his automail –
opposing mechanical limbs had lead to muscles developed in a constant state of isometrics – and she
was enormously proud and aroused by that thought.

She was ashamed to say she had often kidded him about his height, or the lack of it, but in truth
there was not a thing lacking in him.

He was perfect.

From the tip of his slightly upturned nose, the part of his lush, golden hair, to the tips of his curled
toes, automail and flesh, (and all points in between – oh, the points in between), he was a vision of
perfection; the stuff that girlie dreams were made of…

She’d wanted to go slowly, make it all magical, birds singing, tra-la-la, that sort of thing, but she’d
been too impatient to wait and had practically torn his shirt off. Rather than complain that she’d
shredded a fine piece of his wardrobe, Edward had stared at her, amber eyes wide in disbelief … and
whooped with glee.

Overcome by the sight of him, she’d launched herself at him, a frenzy of hands and lips. They’d
fallen in a tangled mass on the bed, shedding clothes and, for her part, anyway, inhibitions and for a
time, it was everything she’d dreamed it would be…

It was not long after this, though, that she noticed something was missing.

It’s a wonder that she did, being so caught up in the taste of him, the feel of him, but ever observant
to a fault, notice she did…

Like a little wheeled toy that runs solely on the power of the child whose hands control it, Edward
was warm and responsive …as long as she was moving her hands, or some other part of her, over
him. The minute she stopped, so too did Ed.

She experimented once or twice and sure enough, without Winry-power, the Ed-toy stopped dead,
albeit “dead” with a big, loopy smile on its face…

Annoyed, but far too hot for him to stop now, she’d lowered herself on top of him, not the least
displeased with his moaned response, and they continued.

Intoxicated with the feel, and the delicious sound, of skin on skin, she at first didn’t notice certain
things: every so often he would pause, freeze his body, and for a moment, look off towards the wall
or ceiling, his expression inward – like he was trying to remember something – and what, at this
time, was so important to remember?; he’d looked down at her splayed body as if trying to work out
some math problem – geometry from the way he proceeded to reposition her limbs; pleased at both
angle and arrangement, satisfied in some stark, less-than-passionate way, almost like sex was science
for him, like everything was science for him, he’d continued, happy with the results, not noticing
how his studied break in the mood, his oddly un-sexual behavior, was less than arousing for her…

It was almost as though he were following a handy step-by-step instructional guide. (A pamphlet
entitled, “So It’s Your First Time? A Virgin’s Guide to Sex,” maybe?)

Still and all, despite the less-than-magical mathematical pauses and both of their first-timer’s
awkwardness, she was on her way. And then…

And then he…arrived, while she was still … on the road.

Sigh.

Well, she thought. That’s OK. He’s happy – oh, god, listen to him… Next time it’ll be better. I
know it.

But it wasn’t. Well, in some ways it was. It just wasn’t…quite…better enough.

She thought he might have dozed off, his breathing had gotten regular, deeper, but then she felt him
moving around behind her. A second later, he’d molded himself to her back, one cold arm circling
her middle.

“Already,” she hissed out, not bothering to mask the weariness in her voice.

She was immediately sorry; he pulled back sharply and his tone said she’d stung him.

“I-I thought you’d want to… I dunno, cuddle, or something…”

Now there’s a word I never thought I’d hear coming from Edward Elric’s mouth.

“Cuddle,” she asked, trying to sound open to it. She certainly didn’t want to hurt or discourage him.
At this point, though, she wasn’t up for much more.

Tentatively, he leaned in again, kissing her shoulder softly.

“Yeah, I read that women like to do that. After…”

He read that?

“You read that?”

So he was remembering instructions from some manual.

She was mildly put off by that thought.

What wasn’t off-putting, though, was the feel of him behind her.

Oh, god, the feel of him…

She wanted to relax into him, his body was warm and so close, but … but she couldn’t let this go.

“Where did you read that, Edward?” She couldn’t keep the unrest out of her voice. “Were you …
studying up on … on this?” She pulled away and sat up to look at him. “Is this,” she gestured wide
to indicate the bed and what they’d done in it, “just more research for you? More science?” And
then she got a thought, and it wasn’t a good one. “Did you come back here on this trip thinking this
was going to happen? Like I was a “sure thing” or something?!”

Her decibel level had risen and Edward, for his part, looked frightened.

“W-winry, I…”

Suddenly she remembered yesterday and the way he’d stomped through the house and out onto the
back porch, screaming obscenities and threatening to explode all over her nice clean clothes.

He’d tortured her; unaccountably angry because he’d thought she’d put the mark of her ownership
on him. Which she had…but that wasn’t the point. Not if he’d thought he’d owned her. Where did
he get off?

In Risembool, apparently…

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, Edward Elric!!”

“Wait! Let me explain! I—”

“Do you or do you not have a,” she could barely say the word, “a sex text book?” He looked like he
wanted to deny it, but his face flushed full-out crimson and he could only nod in assent. “Edward,
did you come out here on this trip thinking this was going to happen?” Despite her anger, the
question, and the realization of what it meant, had her feeling suddenly warm herself. Incredibly
flattered, but trying to ignore it, she blustered on. “Did you plan this?”

“Yes. No!”

What?!

“Whattaya mean, ‘Yes. No?’”

Edward, normally a force to be reckoned with, seemed far too flustered for one of his trademark
tirades, something she felt sure she’d have been treated to if the circumstances had been different.
For instance, if he hadn’t been, at that moment, sitting naked in her bed …

He wasn’t too flustered to be insulted, though. Gathering himself – jaw set, body tensed – he sighed
heavily, then answered her.

“Yes, I have a sex manual. No, I didn’t plan … this…” He mimicked her gesture, indicating the bed.

She watched as his expression seemed to color with something far stronger than embarrassment and
insult: anger.

“I came out here for a tune-up, Winry. Right on schedule for once, not that you noticed…” He
balled his fists up in the sheets. “You’re the one that surprised me, remember?”

That was true. He’d seemed genuinely shocked when she’d kissed him yesterday.

“So, what – have you just been carrying around a sex manual all along, just hoping you’d get to use
it someday?” She blanched, all at once realizing she might not have been the intended target.

Ed’s blush deepened.

“No!!… I just got it last night.” He quickly clamped a metal hand over his mouth, as though he’d
just let something crucial or embarrassing slip out.

Winry was confused.

O-kay…

“You didn’t go anywhere after dinner last night – we worked on your arm, remember? Where’d you
get the book from?”

“Hmm-mmmmm,” came the muffled response from behind Ed’s hand. He smacked himself in the
head with his free hand, clearly pissed that he’d answered her, unintelligible though it had been.

It didn’t take a genius to figure it out, though.

“Alphonse?! Alphonse gave you a book about sex?” She struggled to get her brain around that one.
“W-why did your little brother give you a book about sex?”

Before he could respond, an even better question floated to the top of her mind.

“Where did Alphonse get a book about sex?!” She shuddered, trying to that imagine sweet,
innocent, boy-masquerading-in-the-guise-of-a-behemoth procuring a sex manual. For the second
time, the color drained from her face. “Please tell me there isn’t …anything … to tell me,
Edward…”

Ed’s eyes went wide as he got her inference and waving his hands wildly now, he backtracked.

“No, no, no! That’s not what I meant! Alphonse isn’t…” She saw him gulp visibly. “I mean, how
could he…” His ears started to glow. “He got the book from the Colonel—”

“Colonel Mustang gave your little brother a sex manual!!”

There was a distinct possibility that she was going to be violently ill…

She wasn’t sure what was more appalling: the Colonel giving inappropriate illicit materials to a
minor or the Colonel suggesting said minor put said illicit materials to use. And with whom!? And
how?!

Pulling the sheet around her, she started to get out of bed.

“Got the number for Central handy? I’m gonna turn that sonovabitch in right now!”

With a last tug of the sheet, she stood up and made her way for the door.

She paused, adjusting her sheet, to wonder why Edward was so quiet. Why wasn’t he screaming
obscenities along with her? He was usually so protective of his younger brother.

What was wrong with him?!

She whirled, spinning on her heel, the sheet twisting around her, only to find Ed curled up in a tight
ball, laughing so hard he was gasping for air.

“What the--?”

Feeling the need to toss something hard – the only thing in reach was a hair brush, but it would do –
Winry lobbed the bristled missile in Ed’s direction, only missing him, appropriately, by a hair’s
breath, and then only because he was rolling around like an idiot.

“What are you laughing at!? This is serious!!”

Edward bit his lip, trying to clamp the brakes on his mirth – the last bits escaped through his nose –
and he looked up at her.

“You’re right. It’s very serious…” One last giggle, then a sigh. “Or it would be if that’s what
happened. But it isn’t.”

Uh-huh…

Ed’s face had suddenly gone white again, all trace of mirth evaporated and, finding his turn-on-a-dime emotional change somewhat frightening, she plopped her sheet-wrapped fanny back down onto
the bed.

“What’s going on, Ed? Something tells me what really happened is worse than what I was thinking
happened, if that’s possible…”

After so much uncontrolled laughter, he suddenly seemed reluctant to speak; stricken, in fact.

“Edward. What is it?” Ed didn’t answer and she shook him once, trying to break the spell. “Ed!”

“The book wasn’t for Alphonse,” he intoned, quietly, finally speaking. Eyes still unfocused, his
brows started to move dangerously together. “It was… it…” Jaw tight, ashen face coloring an angry
red, he finally managed to finish the sentence. “It was for me…”

“For you!!?”

She was right - Colonel Mustang was a pervert!!* [see note at beginning of story.]

“That sonovabitch,” she swore softly. “I knew he was too smooth for his own good. I just didn’t
realize he was a pedophile…”

Edward looked up at her then and from his expression she got the idea he was trying to decide
whether to laugh or start ranting…

The guffaws won out; Edward snorted through his nose, then broke out in a fit of abject laughter.

“You thought the Colonel…” gasping for breath, he wiped mirth tears from his cheeks. “You
thought the Colonel was …” He rolled back and forth, hugging his knees, unable to say more.

It was her turn to be insulted.

“C’mon, it’s not so impossible! Mustang is famous for being a … a little bit of an … an
opportunist, that way and … and have you looked at yourself lately? You’re … pretty, Edward.
Really pretty…”

At this, Ed stopped laughing, his expression clouding. “Are you saying I look like a girl?”

“No!” She backpedaled. “God, no!!”

“I’m saying that… I’m saying that anyone would want you, Edward.” She looked him dead in the
eye. “Anyone.”

Ed quirked an eyebrow, trying to decide how to react.

All at once, every muscle in his contorted face relaxed and his cheeks pinked up nicely.

“Really?”

She bit her lip. Oh, yeah…

“Uh-huh.”

He must have been pleased with that response because he leaned forward and kissed her full on the
lips.

Mmmmm…

She wasn’t too far gone, though, to realize she hadn’t gotten an answer yet.

Sitting back on her heels, she peered into his face.

“You still haven’t told me why the Colonel felt the need to give you a sex manual.”

She suddenly felt very protective of him; her right hand started itching for that big wrench she
usually wielded. “Do I need to bean him?”

Ed sighed. “One of us probably should…”

His lovely face flushed again, then his brow darkened.

“Actually, beaning is too mild.”

His breath quickened and she watched as a flush spread itself across his entire body. Somewhat
perversely, he started to laugh – a forced kind of sound – as though he knew damn well she was
never gonna buy what he was about to say.

“You wanted to know why he gave Al that book – to give to me? You’re gonna laugh your ass off
when I tell you.”

She eyed him warily. “Good, I could use a laugh…”

He turned his wide eyes towards her, his jaw set, his expression blank. She got the impression he
could explode at any minute.

“The Colonel… the colonel thinks…” Again the forced laugh. “…he thinks I’m too tightly
wound… Ha! Can you believe that?!”

Tightly wound? Edward? No way! What a ridiculous idea…!

Winry had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

A ridiculous idea in some bizzaro-mirror world, maybe…

She knew he needed to hear her say something supportive and comforting like, “No way! What a
ridiculous idea!” but knowing she could never pull that off, she just shook her head and hoped she
was convincing.

“He told Al that he thought I needed an outlet… And that,” his voice was strained, “and that if I had
been—” He broke off here and his blush edged into the danger zone. “—if I had been … you
know… jer— um, h-helping myself…in any way, I probably wouldn’t be so tense and …and go off
on people so much the way … the way he says I do…”

Now that was ridiculous, considering his life on the road with his brother.

“How the hell can you … help yourself? You’re never alone?”

He grinned his relief, for a moment forgetting to be shocked by her statement.

“I know! That’s what I said!” Realizing what they’d both just said, and what he’d just inferred,
Edward suddenly looked sick.

Nonplused, Winry went on. “’Sides, he doesn’t know you very well if he thinks that’ll help…”

“Hey! I’m sitting right here!”

She bit her lip to keep from laughing at him, sensing that it would be counterproductive at this point.

“I’m just saying, you’ve always been … like this, even before your hormones were making you
miserable…”

He gave her a sideways glance. “I’m not gonna take that as an insult because … because I know
you’re trying to help…”

Smiling, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Good.”

“It’s a good thing I had that book, though, you know? Cause… cause I like to research new stuff
before I … um, try it and without the book, I wouldn’t have known what to do…”

Winry bit her lip. Now was her chance to tell him, but how to?

Come off too casual and he might not get it. Be blunt and risk him imploding or having a seizure or
something. It’d been a rough five minutes for Edward…

“Can I see it?” She held out her hand. “You know I’m all about the research myself.”

Edward blushed. “…um, sure. Lemme get it.”

He tried to reach his pants, but they’d been flung too far in the frenzy and he had to get out of bed to
get them.

Which bothered Winry not at all…

Her breath caught in her throat; the way the corded muscles of his strong back narrowed down
towards his slim waist, the muscles of his right thigh pulling tight as he bent to pick up the book,
performing a little move – half athletic, half balletic – with an unconscious bounce at the end as he
righted himself.

Her heart skipped a beat and her face flush hotly.

Damn the book. Just look at him…

He was so, so beautiful; how could this not work?

Maybe one more try… In the name of research…

Oblivious to the affect he was having on her, Ed spun on his heel, holding the book out to her. She
grabbed his other hand instead, pulling him back into bed.

“Hold that thought,” she whispered.

Hands at the small of his back, she pulled him close, lips at his neck.

“Okay…” he husked, settling himself over her with a long sigh.

“I think we need to do a little more research of our own at the moment.”

Ed’s answering giggle got lost in the kiss.

Third times’ the charm…

~*~*~
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