He hadn't called first. She'd gotten used to that already; some things never changed, after all. So when he showed up outside of Garfiel's shop in Rush Valley one day, she was only grateful that his arm wasn't completely destroyed. In fact, it didn't look to be in that bad of a shape, oddly enough.
Winry was just about to go grocery shopping at the time. When she stepped out, she found him standing there awkwardly.
Her first question was, "Where's Al?" She looked around, instinctively expecting to see a large suit of armor, until she consciously checked herself and looked for a golden-haired young man instead. But neither could be found.
Ed shrugged. "He decided to stay behind. He said he wanted to go into some local villages for a while."
The brothers had recently been touring the country holding exhibitions on Rentanjutsu for alchemists not affiliated with the military. The last she'd heard, they had gone into West Area, which was mostly why she was surprised to see him in the south so suddenly.
"Then you're in a hurry?" Winry asked.
"Well...I'd like to leave by tomorow."
She looked over his arm. "Good news for you; with that kind of damage, it's not even going to take an hour to repair."
"Oh..."
"Could you wait inside for a bit? I'll get to you once I'm done shopping."
Ed frowned.
"And that's exactly the reason why you should call first," Winry sighed. "I'd leave my schedule open if I knew I was expecting you."
"Yeah, yeah." Ed stuck his hands in his pockets and turned to go inside, and came face-to-face...or rather, face-to-hairy-chest with Garfiel.
"Ohh! Edward is here!" Garfiel exclaimed as Ed quickly backed up a few steps. "In that case, Winry dear, I can take care of the shopping for you. I needed a breather."
"Thank you, Mr. Garfiel!" Winry smiled, as Garfiel winked at her.
"You know...shouldn't you be good enough to open your own shop now?"
They were sitting side by side in the automail shop when he asked this. Winry looked up from taking off the casing of his arm.
He continued. "I mean, look at these people; are they coming for you or for Garfiel?" He motioned with his flesh arm to the four men sitting opposite them in the shop, their automail in various shapes of disarray.
"Well...they come for Mr. Garfiel, but I tend to them sometimes."
"But do they prefer you or him?"
The customers snickered among each other.
"Yeah, I thought so."
"Hey, don't dismiss Mr. Garfiel, he's an excellent mechanic and taught me a lot," Winry said, though inwardly pleased at his compliment. "And I have been considering it, actually...I've been looking around for a place to set up shop in Rush Valley..."
Ed groaned at this, earning a stare from Winry. "In Rush Valley?"
"What's wrong with Rush Valley? It's a great place to start a business."
"I hate it here!"
"So? What does that have to do with anything?"
He didn't answer the question. "Do you have any idea how many mechanics attack me every time I come here? I don't want to be swarmed by a pack of hyenas whenever I need my automail fixed."
Winry raised an eyebrow. "Where else are you suggesting then?"
"I don't know, how about Central? Or Risembool; Granny and Den must be missing you."
This was true. The thought of returning to Risembool brought a smile to her lips and a nostalgic ache in her chest. Yes, that wasn't a bad idea at all. Neither Granny or Den were getting any younger, after all.
She opened her mouth to agree, but then noticed Edward looking at her oddly. A look of anticipation, almost like he was waiting with baited breath. Winry began to wonder just how far she could take this conversation...
"Hmm, but I've already been to Central and Risembool. I might want to try somewhere new..."
"New? Like where?" Edward looked decidedly disappointed.
"Oh, I don't know...maybe the north."
"Not the north, please," was his instant reply.
Winry giggled in spite of herself. The way he was acting, it was like he expected to visit her more often than for the occasional automail maintenance...
She paused then, hand stuck in the toolbox where she had been digging out a screwdriver. What if Ed was planning on visiting her more often? Why did he even come this time? With damage this minor, he could have very well gone another month without needing to get it fixed. Why did he start suggesting for her to move? Or was he really suggesting something else?
She spared a glance back at Ed where he sat, fidgeting awkwardly in the lull of the conversation. He certainly seemed uneasy and anxious about something. But it was strange for him not to be direct about it. He was always direct about everything else. Unless it was a subject he wasn't very comfortable with...
Finally taking out the screwdriver, Winry turned back to him and decided to continue trying to fish out the reason.
"Well?" he asked her.
"Well what?"
"Are you going to move or not?"
Winry let out a loud sigh, twisting a screw in his arm. "Maybe I don't want to move after all."
"But you said-"
"What exactly gives you the right to decide my future anyway, Ed?"
Ed flinched, and began to protest, looking suddenly flustered. "I'm not deciding, I'm suggesting."
"And I'm asking why you think your opinion matters any more than the opinions of my other customers?"
Ed stared at her, mouth hanging open. Winry knew she was being rather unfair with this statement, but she felt it needed to be said.
The other customers started chipping in with their opinions. "Yeah, we want Miss Winry to stay!" "Rush Valley needs you!"
Ed finally seemed to have found his voice. "Well that's...well we..."
"Didn't you always say, whenever people asked about us, that I was just your mechanic? Why should I consider you as anything more than just my customer?"
"Hey! That's..." Whether his face was red from indignation or embarrassment, or both, it was hard to tell. But she could tell her words were getting to him. "That's...not TRUE."
"You said it, Ed. I didn't," she said matter-of-factly, laying down her screwdriver. Technically, the maintenance was now over, but she remained sitting and so did he.
"And that's..." He ground his teeth together. "Okay, I take that back, okay? Sorry. We have...history."
"History?"
"More than you do with these guys!" He flung his non-automail arm out toward the other customers.
"Uh-huh. And that's all?"
The customers snickered.
"No! You know! We..." And that was where he found himself stuck. Was it so difficult just to define their relationship?
It then occurred to Winry that if he merely thought of her as a childhood friend, he wouldn't have this problem. Her pulse began to quicken. Maybe this was worth getting into after all.
"We...what?" she asked, not able to mask the teasing smirk forming on her lips.
He saw it. And she could see the physical reaction on his face as he realized what she was trying to get him to do. His complexion darkened several shades to a bright maroon.
At that moment, staring at each other, they both knew.
WHAM.
The front door slammed open, and Garfiel marched into the studio with bags of groceries in his thick arms. Winry jumped in her seat. Ed did in his too.
"Winry dear, if you're done, could you help me with these bags?"
Trying to ignore her rapid heartbeat, Winry leapt up to go help, leaving Ed behind. She suddenly felt rather stupid; why bring him to that point, then run away herself? Maybe she too was embarrassed. Maybe she was even scared.
In her experience, things were always easier when they didn't change. Maybe that was why she never did anything about her feelings for Ed, despite being aware of them for over a year now. She felt even more stupid then, realizing that it took a move from Ed himself for her to do anything. He was the emotionally constipated one, dammit!
Busy unpacking the groceries, Winry glanced back at Ed again. Still red in the face, he was sheepishly putting his jacket back on while the customers continued snickering.
He glanced at her, and their eyes met.
Winry fought the urge to either blush like mad (was she already?) or fling a wrench at him (she was feeling a bit irritable now too). Instead, she just glared, then averted her gaze as he reeled in startled bafflement.
But now she'd made another decision. She wasn't going to let it end here. And next time, she would make the first move.