a/n the lil drabble you write when you get stuck on your lil fic when you're stuck on your other lil fic
when you're stuck on your enormous multi-chapter fic. in the world of my fics about EdWin's wedding,
Very Well and Three and the one I'm stuck on.

Enjoy!

Winry's bachelorette party came to a close
in the most innocent of ways:
a slumber party.

The girls all piled up in the den, a castle of pillows
and blankets and stuffed animals.
It was warm and fuzzy, and much of it pink.

The whole lot of them, stomachs stuffed with sugar,
light and bubbling with champagne,
snuggled into the hard wood
like it was a large, fluffy summertime cloud.

Each one of them slept with a soft smile,
no doubt dreaming of white dresses,
and rings, and cake,
and forever.

Each one of them slept,
aside from Riza.

She sat propped up against the couch,
holding her novel close
utilizing as much of the porch light as she could.

Riza brought it with her knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep.
It was the wedding, she was sure. Weddings always seemed
to throw everyone for a loop.

In result, Riza hadn't gotten much rest.
It wasn't a crisis, just an inconvenience.

So, she brought her novel and kept herself distracted,
most valiantly fighting the silly thoughts of white dresses,
and rings, and cake,
and forever.

It was going well enough,
until the bride-to-be 'sleeping' to her left,
turned toward her and opened her eyes.

"Have you ever loved someone, Miss Riza?"

Apparently, she couldn't sleep either.

Of course, Winry, however, had a perfectly good excuse
to be awake and pestered with pretty thoughts of white dresses
and rings, and cake,
and forever.

Riza raised an eyebrow at the young bride.
The girl grinned sleepily in the dim orange light.

"There are very many different types of love-"
"You know what I mean," Winry deadpanned,
and Riza was caught.

The young girl now knew her quite well, so lightly unfortunate for a woman
as private as Hawkeye. But, Winry had become a dear friend,
very similar to Rebecca. Though, Rebecca seemed much less problematic
- which was saying something.

The brunette lay snoring at her feet, curled up with Hayate,
while the blonde ruthlessly gazed up at her with pleading blue eyes
requesting a conversation about Riza's least favorite of subjects.

Winry, of course, knew this. She had somehow subconsciously
cataloged all of the specific topics Riza would rather not discuss.

Often, if they were not riddled with pain,
she would pick a subject,
and nearly force Riza to open up
and – god help her – socialize.

It was harmless for the most part, but Winry was clever and fearless,
and to Miss Riza's great misfortune, knew right away when
she was dodging the point.

So, she had no choice.

Riza huffed,
closed her book,
even still, a subtle smile on her face.

"Yes," she said candidly. Winry suspected as such.
"Do you love anyone right now?"

That particular question proved to be a popular pastime
for the evening. They had played truth or dared, or rather,
practically broadcasted their love lives outright, one by one.

Riza always had a perfectly poised,
carefully crafted,
completely unspecified response.

Such questions gave her quite the headache.
Such questions possessed very complicated answers.
Such questions prompted the intake of lots and lots of sugar.

Riza knew what they expected,
and she disappointed every time.

Winry, however, was so sweetly relentless.
She asked not for gossip, a scoop, a secret.

Winry simply wished for others,
happiness.

She could do gears, and bolts, and motor oil.
She could do dresses, and rings, and love.

And, if there were any woman concerned with
the happiness of others on her own wedding day,
it would be Winry Rockbell.

Unfortunately so, Winry had become a dear friend
and there was no way Riza was getting out of this.

Do you love anyone right now?

Riza skillfully tilted her head, bit her lip and squinted,
"Not that I'm aware of." "Liar," Winry quipped instantly.

"Now, how would you know I'm lying?" Riza picked up her book,
opened it again, and stuck her nose into the pages.

"I just know," Winry scoffed. Riza smirked.
"The evidence appears to be quite unsubstantial."

Winry huffed, big blue eyes wide and restless. She propped up on her elbow
and caved. Unfortunately, they were dear friends now,

and Winry knew there was no way she was getting anywhere
with this woman, no matter how stubborn and persistent,
and admittedly annoying her own tactics.

"Fine." Winry bit and settled, "Have you ever had a crush on someone?"
That wasn't such a tricky question, now was it? It focused on the past,
and on a much lighter, sillier, common kind of love. Riza blinked, "Crush?"

Winry nodded, "Mhm. Blushing and butterflies and all that."
Riza sighed, surrendered her book once more and, of course,
knew the answer. But, ever Riza Hawkeye, she hesitated.

"I'm getting married the day after tomorrow."
"Yes?"
"You're the maid of honor."
"Yes?"

"So, it's your duty to appease me," Winry literally begged,
"I'm the bride. I order you to answer."

Riza chuckled. "Understood," She sighed,
"Yes, I have had a crush I suppose"

Winry lit up like a Christmas tree, "Who?"
Riza bit her lip. There was no turning back now.
She had orders, after all.

"My father's apprentice."
"Oh," she grinned, "Was it a forbidden love?"

Hardly, Riza nearly snorted.
It was barely love at all.

It was a blush or two, butterflies maybe,
a honorable, intelligent, painfully charming boy
that was hell bent on befriending a very lonely girl.

And, forbidden?

She wasn't even sure, in those days,
if Berthold Hawkeye still knew he had a daughter.
So, Riza decided on a, "I wouldn't know. My father was never wise to it."

"Did he have a crush on you too?"
Winry hoped so ardently.

Riza brought a finger to her lip and tapped,
genuinely answering, "I was never certain."

"I bet he did."

"And, how would you know, Winry?"
"I just know," Winry grinned. Riza smirked.
"The evidence appears to be quite unsubstantial."

Winry rolled her eyes and collapsed back onto her pillow.
Riza took the opportunity to do the same.

Perhaps the conversation was over.

Perhaps Riza had dodged enough for long enough to exhaust even
ever pure-hearted, ever ruthlessly vigilant Winry Rockbell.

Riza was very wrong.

"Tell me something about him."

She had already turned away from the her,
pointedly choosing to face the windows,
escape the hot seat.

She had already tucked away her book.
She had already pat Hayate on the head.

She had already convinced herself she had passed the test, survived.
Maybe she could finally get some sleep.
Probably not, honestly.

Still, Winry insisted for at least one more word.
Riza huffed and turned back to her.

She thought and scrunched her nose.
"He was kind of a know-it all."

"Like Ed," Winry snorted.
"Like Edward, yes" Riza smiled.

It was possible then, Winry grinned. It was possible for even Riza Hawkeye,
her maid of honor, so often carrying around the weight of the world,
to have her own Ed,
her own love of her life.

Perhaps her own white dress,
and ring, and cake,
and forever.

Perhaps it was possible.

"One more thing," she lifted a finger.
"Winry…" Riza warned.

It was time to sleep. It was time to stop torturing
her dear friend, her maid of honor.
Winry understood.
Still.

"What did he look like?"

Riza knew what she was asking.

Winry was aware of at least the bare bones of Roy and Riza's past.
Ed had mentioned it once briefly. She knew they had known each other
for a long time, since childhood. Her father might have been an alchemist,

and Winry wasn't one-hundred percent sure Roy Mustang
was Riza Hawkeye's father's apprentice.
But, she had a feeling.

Riza knew what she was asking.

Ever still she did giver her a perfectly poised,
carefully crafted,
completely unspecified response,
while still following orders, of course.

Riza rolled her eyes, turned back to the windows,
pulled the duvet up to her shoulders,
and sighed into a smile.

"He had dark hair and dark eyes, Xingese decent."

It was vague.
It was specific.

It gave Riza just enough time to pretend she fell asleep
before Winry hummed, "Wait a minute." Xingese decent, huh.
then finally gasped, baffled she hadn't realized instantly.

She knew it.
She just knew.

"That sounds like General Mustang."

"Does it?" Riza feigned exhaustion,
muttering into the fluff of her pillow.

"Yes," Winry saw through her
and smirked, finally satisfied,

"Yes, it does."

it's the little fics that are the loveliest. let me know your thoughts,
review review and follow and review.

Very Well actually happens right before this with a similar cute,
warm and fluffy topic, so go read that one too.

I love them.