He didn't know why this time was so different. Maybe it was because she had been in as much danger as him. Or maybe it was just that he could no longer drown out the echo or Lt. Hawkeye's accusation. Whatever it was, it was becoming harder and harder to keep bolted down. When she came in after his shower, her own hair still a little damp, he'd drawn in a harsh breath but let her proceed. It was finally unbolted. No, not unbolted, shot off. Kicked out, electrified with sparks and smoke still sputtering. They were finally at a safe place, as safe as any place could be at least. The doors didn't lock, it was cold, but at least it had hot water and food. For a short time it would be alright. So they had rested, refreshed, and of course with Winry along, maintained all of their "equipment".

She had put off working on his parts until last. Seeing first to everyone else at his insistence, besides he was fine and she built tough. What he hadn't been expecting was being alone with her during this. He should have known, but for some reason it had slipped his mind. Seeing her in pajamas shouldn't have been a shock either. They were incongruous white long-sleeved. Not even a low cut to tease, however with her damp hair and now the bright lights reflecting off his automail, he could fancy a shadow of a nipple beneath the linen.

He made it through the entire process of oiling, moving, cleaning, and checking. He did his best not to stare too deeply at her chest as she breathed, into her eyes as she concentrated, or on her hands as they rubbed and pulled on the unfeeling limb. He had done very well. If there was a golden star for self-control he would have earned it tonight. He was perfectly fine until, finished, she released his hand, yawned, and leaned back on her elbows from her place on the floor. When she leaned back, legs still crossed Indian-style under the coffee table, obviously tired and needing sleep, and then asked how he was; It decided It had had enough.

Of course, It didn't think things through. He had kicked the coffee table, causing her to jump, which excited him even more. He didn't even pause to watch its flight across the room as he pounced. She shrieked as he landed on top of her, crashing the rest of the way to the floor. He kissed her roughly, bruising, directly on the lips, eyes open and glaring into hers to stop him. As her eyes only registered surprise he had broken off with a growl and looked to the side, where his automail arm had entangled with her hair. She tried to move a hand up to her lips only his hold on her arm kept it pinned. Tentatively, slightly shaking, he felt her other hand stroke his cheek.

"Ed, what?..." Her breathy whisper trailed off as he turned back to meet her eyes. Her hand stayed on his cheek as she shifted, rising up as best as she could to kiss him in return. It had gotten what it wanted. He responded hungrily and when she had to break off to breathe started to devour her neck. He moved back a little, stalled in his quest by her shirt. With a jerk of his automail arm he tore it open, buttons popping off and flying around the room. She gasped as he took what he thought was just a shadow into his mouth, her back arching against him raising her off the floor. He slid his metal arm between the flesh and the carpet, raising her even higher until she was in his lap, knees spread around his waist. As the warmth of her wrapped around his waist It began to probe. His pelvis contracted unconsciously against hers, grinding their bodies together. Their lips came together once more as their bodies moved, wet hair strewn between. Fingers were dug into flesh as groans were suppressed between clenched teeth. His hand had just begun tugging down the waistband of her pants when the door burst open. Their lips broke apart with surprised gasps.

"Brother! What….."