Edward likes to tell me stories about kissing Winry. This little sketch here, I didn't have to turn him upside down and shake him to get it out of him. Instead he spent the evening pounding it into my head until I gave up and wrote the draft last night. Now then. Obvious disclaimers apply: I don't own Jack… Actually, I do own Jack, but I don't own Edward. Nor anyone else in Amestris for that matter.

My canon is Animeverse including CoS (though that doesn't really apply in this case) and the mangaverse applies where it is not in direct contradiction, or where Ed tells me "Yah that happened, but it was like this:"

Reviews are welcome of course, so please encourage me with feedback. Whether it's good or bad it lets me know you read it and what you thought of it and my probably multitude of typos.

"Win…" Edward reached with his left hand and took hers, pulling her to a stop while the others continued down the hill toward the station. His grip was tentative at first, his eyes on the ground, fingers resting lightly against her palm. Her closeness sang through him, when her hand remained in his.

"What is it?" Her fingers closed around his a little.

He held onto her hand. Fear kept him from speaking. What if his voice shook? If he said the wrong thing? What about that wrench in her other hand? He clamped down on a shudder and spoke. "I…" He let the ragged mess of his bangs keep his face hidden from her while he hesitated; wrestled with his own trepidation.

"Edward?" He closed his eyes at the sound of his name on her lips. The sweetest sound in the world. Her grip tightened as if she meant to offer encouragement.

He opened his eyes and raised them. First to their hands–his fingers clasped around hers, his touch firmer now as he lifted his face to hers. One of these days he would grow tall enough that he wouldn't have to look up to gaze into those amazing blue eyes. His grip tightened, the flash of irritation enough to carry him through the paralyzing hum of his own nerves into a decisive action. If he couldn't say it with words… One step closed the distance between them. One fluid motion of his right hand took the wrench from her and dropped it to the ground next to them. That same hand–the hand she had made for him–came to rest on her hip as he rose onto his toes a little.

"Ed? What are–"

He stopped her with his mouth. Answered her with his lips on hers. Sweet. Soft. Warm. Winry. A sigh escaped him. A soft moan when her lips parted a little under his, the tip of his tongue tasting her for just an instant before he ended it, and stepped back. "I'm sorry," he told her, head down, steel fist clenched.

"Sorry?" she asked her hand still warm in his. "Why? Edward–"

"Because!" He bit his lip for a moment, ashamed to cut her off like that, to raise his voice to her. He looked up at her, into those eyes like sapphires and amethysts all at once. "I shouldn't have done it… I have to go." He turned away from her, but she wouldn't let go of his hand, and he was reluctant to pull it free just yet. "I have to Winry. Alphonse is waiting. And the major … We'll miss our train if I don't go now."

"I know that, Edward."

He clenched his teeth, wanting to shout, wanting to weep, and unwilling to do either. How could she be so kind? He was always leaving her. Always making her sad. "I'm really sorry." Gently, gently he pulled his fingers out of her hand, reached up and touched her cheek, his eyes begging her not to cry.

She shook her head. "Take care of yourself, Edward," she told him warm fingers touching his steel arm–her arm. "Come back when you can. I'll be right here."

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Corrected 2007-03-08 – Thanks for editing Marks from SJ Smith