Not really sure where this one came from, but I had a good time writing it. No real plot and I get a bit into the medical side of automail, so if you're not into surgery talk, this might not be for you. Enjoy!

Winry paused in her meal of scrambled eggs. "Ed, are you limping?"

Edward, who was standing at the stove frying his second helping of bacon, glanced up, then looked down at the leg Winry was pointing her fork at. "I slept on it weird. It's just stiff."

Normally, Winry would have believed that. Ed tended to sleep in the most bizarre and painful-looking positions. But she'd caught him rubbing the area around the port and that he had been making a point of not putting any weight on it during the past couple of days. Her eyes narrowed. "Edward."

His shoulders stiffened but he met her gaze. "Winry."

"Does your leg hurt?"

"No."

There was a split second of hesitation in his reply, but Winry caught it. His leg was bothering him. "Take off your pants," she ordered, gesturing at the baggy pajama pants he still had on.

Ed made a noise of protest. "But I'm eating!"

"You can eat while I look!" Winry ran a hand down her face. The sun wasn't even up yet and they were already arguing. "All my tools are down in the shop, I won't take anything apart. I just want to make sure you don't have anything leaking."

He groaned dramatically, but slid off his pants and brought his plate of freshly cooked bacon to the table. Winry scooted her chair next to him and Ed slung his leg into her lap.

At first, nothing looked wrong. No blood, no leakage, nothing sparking. And that was probably why she hadn't noticed until now. With her own shop newly opened, she'd been slammed with customers and had mostly left Ed to his own maintenance. She hadn't actually had a good look-over of his leg since before she got her certification.

But then she started to pick up the details. The seam between his port and his leg was redder than usual. There was an odd patch of swelling on the front of his leg. She squeezed the stump and grimaced when Ed hissed in complaint. His muscles were too tight and the whole area felt hot, like it was inflamed.

Her first thought was that it was a port infection. But those spread fast- by this point, Ed would have been running a fever and there would have probably been more swelling. Rust in the port wouldn't have caused a reaction like this either.

She mentally ran through her checklist- Metal from the port contaminating the blood? Couldn't be, no fever or nausea. Misaligned nerves? No, Ed could still use his leg, so the signals weren't compromised. Broken dock in the port? Ed wouldn't have been able to put any weight on it if that was the case.

Winry frowned and sat up. "Ed, I think you've outgrown your port."

Ed paused with a piece of bacon halfway to his mouth. "Outgrown it? Meaning… what, I have to get the plating redone?" He shrugged. "You and Granny did that before."

That was true. She and Pinako had replaced the outer plates of the port twice when Ed actually started growing and gained some muscle. "This is worse, Ed." She pointed to the swollen knot above his knee. "Your leg's run out of room to grow so the bone and muscle are pushing up against the port." Ed looked a bit green as he stared down at his leg. No doubt the image of his femur grinding up against the metal of the port was as unappealing to him as it was to her. "We have to replace the port. The whole thing has to come off."

"ALL of it?" Ed squawked.

"Unless you want your femur to start splintering under the pressure, then yes, all of it."

Ed swallowed thickly and pushed his plate of bacon away. "Look, it's not that big a deal, ok? You've got a lot of customers, so I can wait. It's fine, I'll make sure to use the hot water bottle at night. And I could switch to the northern model, that'll be less weight and-" Edward's babbling was cut off when Winry held up her hand to stop him.

"Edward. You can cause irreversible damage to your leg if we don't get this taken care of. This could even cause problems with your hip and spine." She raised an eyebrow. "I'm assuming you want to be able to walk in the future?" Automail malfunctions were not only painful, but could cause all sorts of problems for the user if they weren't addressed quickly. Some people developed arthritis early, others had damage so bad their nerves were wrecked and automail was no longer an option for them. Those were not fates she wanted for Edward.

For a moment, Ed looked ready to argue, but deflated and leaned back in the chair. "…Yeah. Okay. Let's just get this done."

She reached up to take his hand, one finger running over his wedding band. "I want to have a doctor at the hospital double check with an x-ray. Just want to make sure before we get into it."

The x-ray picture was blurry and not very clear, but there was no doubt that Winry's diagnosis had been correct.

"Doesn't look like it's splintered or deformed yet," the doctor had said, handing the x-ray to Winry to examine. "You caught it early, so that's good."

But now she had to get a slot in the hospital's operating wing. Her own shop was too small for a proper surgery room, as was the case for most mechanics in the Valley. To compensate, the city's hospital had an entire wing for automail surgeries that mechanics could use. But getting in was a pain and required her weight in paperwork.

For one, she had to have a second mechanic in the room with her. That was general practice, but it meant she had to find someone who was free and who wouldn't make Edward uncomfortable. That in itself cut out just about everyone. Mr. Dominic agreed to be her second and Edward liked him enough, so that was settled. Then they had to schedule a time, figure out what equipment she could bring and what she had to borrow, when to bring it, and how long the surgery and recovery would take. Ed had to fill out at least a dozen waivers and liability forms, most of which revolved around him dying on the table. He wasn't too pleased with those.

"I didn't have to sign all this the first time I got automail!" he whined as he signed off promising that none of his surviving family would sue Winry if he didn't make it through the operation.

"Granny was a private practice in the middle of the countryside," Winry explained, sliding an order for a medical-grade drill bit into the finished pile. "And you were twelve. You couldn't sign a contract anyway."

Ed mumbled something that sounded like "didn't stop the military" before moving on to the next sheet.

It was a week before they could get in, during which Winry ordered Ed to stay off his feet as much as possible. Surprisingly, he listened, and did most of his work from the desk in her shop.

When the morning of the operation rolled around, he only grumbled a little bit when she woke him.

"It's really bothering you, isn't it?" she asked as he got dressed. He hadn't even put up a fight when she told him he had to fast the night before the surgery.

Ed sighed loudly through his nose. "Yeah. I mean I don't want to do it, but I don't want it to get worse." He scratched at his arm, looking uncomfortable.

"It won't be as bad as your first surgery, I promise."

"Well for one, I won't have that old hag yelling at me."

Winry swatted his shoulder. "That's my grandmother you're talking about!"

"Doesn't change the fact that she was always chewing me out about something!"

"That's because you never listened and kept trying to do stupid things!"

"Yeah, well-!" Their argument lasted all the way to the hospital and only ended when Ed was herded away to get prepped for surgery.

"You're lucky," Dominic said as he pulled over a tray of drill bits. "You don't have to be conscious for removals. You'll wake up and it'll be done."

Ed, who was trying (and failing) to get comfortable on the operating table, didn't look at all impressed with this information. "Yeah until I have to go back in for installation."

Dominic shrugged. "Well nobody's making you get automail. Got plenty of non-mechanical prosthetic shops around here."

Any rebuttal Ed would have made was cut off when Winry slipped into the operating room, rolling a tank of anesthetic behind her. "We have everything?" she asked. Dominic nodded in reply and she turned to Ed. "And are you ready?"

"'Course I'm ready. Got you as my mechanic."

"How romantic," Dominic droned from the other side of the table.

Ed sputtered and went a violent shade of red. "You-you gonna knock me out or what?"

Removals were messy. Winry knew this- she'd been part of an operation with Garfiel where she had helped him take off an elbow port. The patient had decided that he was simply too old for automail and all the stress that went with it, and the surgery had been quick. There was no need to plan for a future installment and the surgery area was small, as far as automail went.

Mid-thigh operations were another beast. There was a lot of blood, and the noises that came with pulling out a piece of metal from inside a leg were awful. (There was a lot of squelching. Winry never wanted to hear that noise ever again.) Ed had wanted to do the removal and installation in one go, but Winry had refused. They would both need time to recover after the operation. And she was right- along with the fact that Ed would need a couple days to build his blood supply back up.

But as messy as it was, it went well. Winry showered quickly, thankful to get the stink of blood off of herself. Ed would have made it to his hospital room and would be coming off the anesthetic soon.

Sure enough, it was only a couple of minutes after her arrival before Ed woke up enough to realize she was there. "Hey, how you doing?" Winry asked, taking his hand in hers. "Anything hurt?"

Ed had been staring at the ceiling like he wasn't sure why it was there, but rolled his head over to look at Winry. "I feel light," he replied, words running together a bit.

"Well you don't have any automail right now." And you're still medicated. It occurred to her that this was first time in nearly ten years that Ed didn't have any automail at all. Save for a handful of metal shrapnel still lodged in his right shoulder, there wasn't a screw to be found.

Ed hummed in agreement and raised his free hand to rub at his face. "When's the leg? Tomorrow?"

Winry snorted. Tomorrow. As if. "A couple days- oh don't pout about it!" She squeezed his hand to get his attention since he had gone back to scowling at the ceiling. "No more than a week, unless you manage to get an infection."

Amazingly enough, Ed did not get an infection and four days later, they were back in the operation room. There was no anesthetic this time, and Ed made sure to make clear how unhappy he was about that. Both Winry and Dominic pointedly ignored him as they set up.

"You ready to start?" she asked Ed, pulling on her gloves and stepping over to the IV stand. Ed couldn't have any pain medication for the surgery but he would definitely need the extra hydration.

Ed eyed the needle distastefully but only put up token resistance to getting it put in. "Yeah. And I'll be back on my feet in no time!" He grinned. "I give it a month."

Winry raised a skeptical eyebrow. "A month?"

"What? Lan Fan did it in three. And I've done this one before! It'll be like riding a bike."

"Except you can't ride a bike." There was still some debate between the two of them over whether or not Ed just couldn't do it or if his automail was throwing him off balance.

Edward looked insulted. "That's not the point!" He flapped an arm expansively as if to wave away her words. "I got this, Win. I'll be fine."

She smiled. "Yeah, you will be."