A/N: Annie you had better appreciate this. It is one in the morning, I have to get up at five, and I got four hours of sleep last night. Obviously, I love you very, very much.

BE GRATEFUL.

End subliminal message. Merry Christmas.

Disclaimer: I…forgot what I was going to say. I should probably go have some coffee before I start writing this.

Hard Headed

“Winry?” Ed fidgeted with his bandages, and focused on not making eye contact. Not making eye contact was crucial. Eye contact was a sign of aggression. He had to tread very delicately here—

“Yeah?” Winry looked up from her work, grease monkey to the core. Ed coughs at the ceiling.

“…Is there…something that you’re missing?” he croaks.

“No, why? Am I humming? Sorry, I hate it when people hum—”

Ed stopped humming. There was a fine sweat breaking out across his brow.“No, just—uh, I was wondering if there was a…wrench…you were missing.”

“…You look guilty.” Winry advanced slowly, pretty blue eyes narrowed, promising pain. Ed choked on his own oxygen.

“Idonotlookguilty.” He wheezed, and prayed to God, (which he didn’t believe in, but if he was delivered, he would totally become a monk) that something would distract his teenage friend.

“You SOUND guilty!” Winry accused, and thwacked her screwdriver into her palm menacingly. Ed tried for a shaky smile.

“I-it’s your imagina—oh God, please don’t hurt me.” He squeaked at the end. Edward Elric, genius and soldier, was cowering in the face of a girl he had known since childhood.

…She had, admittedly, not looked like a child for quite some time n—NOT LOOKING.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?” Winry roared, every inch a drill sergent. Ed fell out of his chair and crawled hastily to the door, only to be tackled.

Outside, leaning against the wall, Al listened sadly to the painful bangs resounding from within. “Oh, brother…”

---

“YOU BROKE MY WRENCH?!” Winry screeched in disbelief. Ed winced—but then realized this was not entirely fair…

“…Hey, you attempted to smash my head in—”

“YOUR HEAD BROKE MY WRENCH.” Winry continued her reign of terror and destruction. Ed backed down quickly. He might as well have said ‘yes ma’am.’

“Okay, look, I’m sorry, I’ll try to dodge faster next time—” he muttered sarcastically, with all the rebellion left in him (not much).

Winry seized his collar, bringing his face up towards her own until their noses were actually touching. “Oh, there won’t be a next time.” She smiled. Edward thought longingly of the days soon coming when he would finally be taller than her.

(It had to happen. It just had to.)

---

“…You know what? I think Al should be your boyfriend. Yeah. That’d work out well—because, I mean, I can only take so much abuse and—HEY HEY OW, OW, STOP THAT THAT IS MY EAR AND I NEED THAT SO I CAN HURT PEOPLE.” Edward flailed, trying weakly to drag Winry’s pincher-fingers away from his bruised earlobe.

“OH, SO YOU HAVE AN IRON EAR?! IS THAT WHAT BROKE MY WRENCH?!”

“He—hey, you didn’t even notice! It can’t be THAT important!”

Winry released him, drawing herself up in fury, fully prepared to make her Very Important Rant that every woman is entitled to, “EDWARD ELRIC YOU ARE THE MOST INSUFFERABLE LITTLE TWERP I HAVE EVER MET ON THIS SWEET EARTH—”

It was a knee jerk reaction. Ed didn’t stand a chance. “WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?!”

Al patted the animals assembled around him. The sun was shining, the air was clear, it was the middle of the most beautiful summer day he could ever remember—

And his older brother had just failed to chat up a girl—a feat he had been vainly trying for now nearly seventeen years.

“There now, you’re a nice kitty,”

---

“…Winry. Please talk to me.” Ed fidgeted, stealing a glance at his stony faced companion. He debated taking her hand, then decided he had enough fake limbs as it was.

“Look, I know that you’re upset with m—WATCH THE KNIFE!” He shrieked, eyes crossed and staring at the long, vibrating blade millimeters from where his left ear had previously been. Winry glowered sullenly. Ed, who had pleaded and reasoned and bargained for nearly three days now—had gotten rather tired of it. He stood angrily.

“DAMN IT I SAID I’D BUY YOU ANOTHER ONE!” he roared, and slamed his hand on the table. Which was pretty cool—he had always wanted to do that. Yell and slam the table.

“…” slowly, Winry turned to face him, her eyes shadowed. She looked up abruptly, arresting his with a killer glare so intense that…that…

Ed swooned, flopping backwards into Al’s metal lap. The younger sibling looked down with some concern.

“…brother, are you alright?”

“…I think I just saw the afterlife…” Ed burbled, “The long tunnel…I’m so close…”

---

“Al, I think something’s wrong with me.” Ed sat up in the dark, gold eyes huge.

“Why’s that?” Al muttered, and wondered what would happen if he should lock the two blonds in a closet together. For several hours. Without parental supervision.

…Wait, neither of them had parents in the first place…

“I feel so…healthy. And…it’s like I could take on the world! I’m at top shape! I never feel this way when I’m back home—” Ed ran his hands through his air, expression nervous as he explained.

If he could have, Al would have rolled his eyes. “That’s because Winry beats your head in with heavy metal objects with alarming frequency. It hasn’t happened this time, that’s all.”

Ed was silent for a long moment, mulling this over. “…that’s it?”

“I think so,” Al reassured gently. He could hear his brother lie back down in the darkness, on the bunk across the room from his own.

“…I feel so…incomplete.” Ed whispered with awe and wonder. Al sighed.

“Oh, brother…please don’t be a masochist…”

---

“I bought you a wrench. It’s supposed to be really nice. Look, I even got your name engraved! There’s…shiny rocks put into it!” Ed thrust it out to her, looking at the ground. Again with the eye contact. His arm was extended for a long time—before she finally took in, holding it close to her eyes for critical examination.

“…Those are called rubies, Ed. And they’re impractical.” She said snappishly, hands tight around her pretty weapon.

Fed up was putting it too lightly. “…FINE.” Ed snapped, and crossed his arms, pouting.

“FINE!” Winry yelled, and turned away, equally childish.

A very long moment passed. This was it. This was when he played the double edged trump card—slayer of pride and anger.

“…Winry? I’m sorry.” Ed muttered, and stared hopefully at her toned, pale shoulders. She quivered, and then spun, wrench held high for a blow. He shut his eyes instinctively—throwing himself to the side for a dodge—but her hands had closed in on either side of his face and he was trapped! And—

Something warm touched his cheek—right where she usually brained him. Ed opened his eyes as she was backing away, red as her bandana.

“Er,” she smiled tightly, obviously embarrassed, “I’ll…see you.”

She marched away like a robot, leaving him alone at the train station. Ed watched her go, a little spring of wonder growing within.

“…DID YOU SEE THAT?!”

“Yes, brother,” Al flipped a page in the newspaper, “I saw.”

The kitten meowed in agreement. Ed hyperventilated.