Winry's Creation
by SkyFire
rabid-plotbunny. livejournal. com (take out spaces)

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Gen. Drama/Humor
Rating: PG (at most)
Summary: Tired of her seemingly one-sided affections for the Fullmetal, Winry does something a bit... drastic.
Characters: Rockbells, Elric bros., Mustang & co.
Warnings: WIP

Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist in any way, shape, or form. Though if someone cares to donate a Roy, I promise I'd take care of him... afterwards ... evil grin

Part 1

Winry Rockbell, automail mechanical genius, lay on the floor beside her automail masterwork, greenish light swirling around them alongside the strong alchemic winds. The complex outline of an Array was drawn on the floor around and beneath them, powered by the man who knelt outside of it; the Mad Hermit of Resenbool.

Sun-blonde tresses danced and tangled in the winds, slapping against her face as the Array did its work.

An eternity of moments later, the light and winds died down to nothing, leaving the room shrouded in darkness. It was more long moments still before she first stirred, a sound of discomfort escaping her, quickly squashed back at the renewed throbbing of her head. A few deep breaths, and the pain was down to a dull throb behind her left eye.

"Did it work?" she asked, breathed. She looked to her side, searching the gloom for answers.

The faint hum of delicate automail hydraulics and electronics at work was her answer.

"Wha-- What's going on? Where am I?" A small pause, the reflection of something yellow in the dim light seeping down from the stairway in the far corner. "Winry?"

The familiar voice sent shivers down her spine. Had she actually done it? Had she actually--? But she didn't know for sure, did she? So: "What's your name?" she asked.

The clink of automail against the stone floor of the basement. "Did you hit your head or something? Winry, it's me, Ed."

I did it! I did it! I'm a genius! Rush Valley eat your heart out; this Resenbool girl did it! I did it!

"Sorry. It's pretty dark in here," Winry covered with a small laugh. "Let's go home."

Another small clanking and hum of automail, then steel fingers gleamed in the light, offering.

Winry slipped her hand into them, let that surprisingly gentle metal hand pull her to her feet before entwining their fingers and walking companionably up the stairs and out, her right hand in cool metal left.