Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me. If it did, that movie would have been much different.

Author's Note:

This is another oneshot inspired by yet another of the artworks done by the fabulous Cerulean San. It is labeled "Come Hither, O' Dancer." I don't think that this little oneshot captures everything in that lil' pic, seeing as how I sort of went my own way with the plot...eh, you'll see soon enough, won't you?

But yes, this is just to let people know that I am alive and still keeping this fandom in mind. I am hard at work with both Silver Demise and On the Account, and needed to do a little something like this to take a break.

And yes, as always I am a bit insecure of what I post on here...well, I'll let you guys decide for yourselves whether it was worth posting or not.

Enjoy!

She felt foolish. Foolish and downright embarrassed.

Why couldn't she ever stick out her gut and ignore her grandmother for once? She didn't need to attend this stupid ball, and the weird looks everyone here was giving her only served to prove that point.

With a sigh, she gave her clothes another look-over. Before she had entered this place, they had looked perfectly fine and even a bit fancy for her tastes. But now, surrounded by the jewels and furs adorning every other female in the vicinity, she could see the plain summer dress underneath all the gold trimmings she and her grandmother had so painfully attached to the collar and bodice.

Oh, how she wanted to sink into the floor.

But instead she straightened her shoulders and raised her head high, even daring to meet the gazes of some of the women staring at her from across the room. It didn't matter how unfashionable her clothes were- she was here to have fun, wasn't she? Of all the things to be afraid of, having fun was not one of them.

That in mind, she strolled to the dancing floor, trying her best to ignore the small titters that erupted here and there in the ballroom. Despite her best efforts, though, she could still feel her cheeks tinge pink. Old-fashioned and no dancing partner. Smart, wasn't she?

'Well, nothing wrong with dancing alone.'

And she did just that. Her arms stretched out and then twirled as her feet began to spin on the floor, and she found that she could almost forget the stares directed her way. Granny was right, this was kind of fun- if she went faster, she was sure she could breathe the wind.

But just as she was going to slow down and make room for other dancers entering the floor- and possibly save herself from more scrutiny-, something made her heart jump and run to her throat.

Two hands, neat and gloved, slipped into her own.

It was as though time had stopped. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't move, and her heart wouldn't thud. Her mouth was left open, like a fish gasping for air…

And then with a flick of his wrist and a twist of his heel, they were off.

Now her face was burning. Who was this person, and why had he chosen her, of all the girls here, to dance with? To mock her, tease her…? It didn't help that he was still guiding her through the dance from behind, and every breath of his that she felt on her neck made her shiver.

"Aren't you going to say something?"

Her response to that rich, callous voice was a mere gulp, and he continued.

"A 'hello', a 'how do you do', or maybe a 'who are you'…"

"I…wasn't aware that we could talk to our dance partners." It was true; she had little or no idea of customs in places like this.

Her thoughts were interrupted by laughter, free and loud and somewhat pleasant to the ear. "You're new to stuff like this, aren't you?"

She didn't mean to. It was a mechanism built into her, a defense machine that must have been installed since the day she was born. And true to that mechanism, her eyes flashed, her hands tightened just a tad, and her mouth and voice collaborated to issue the gritted retort, "Are you always this charming to girls you randomly dance with?"

His reaction was far sooner than expected. The next twist they went through was a bit too sharp for formalities, and this time it was his hands that tightened around hers. "Watch who you're talking to," was the hiss she felt on her skin.

Her mouth was never meant for watching. "Seeing as how I can't see you, I can't exactly watch you either."

She was spun around and held tightly at the shoulders.

This time, her heart really did cease its beating as she took in stylish black attire, wealthy and formfitting. And on the left side of the chest, so small it was indiscernible from afar...a reddened snake and cross, intertwined.

The sign of the reigning royal himself, Duke Edward Elric.

He took her shocked appearance in stride, smirk and all. "Cat got your tongue, Winry Rockbell, daughter of this town's blacksmiths?"

She stuttered, frustration taking over her initial surprise. "H-how… How do you know me?"

Her answer was a laugh as he took her hand and waist and resumed their dancing steps. "That's for me to know," was the mysterious answer, and she could taste the righteous fury rising in her throat as they moved across the floor. Duke or no duke, she didn't take kindly to any implications of being stalked, and he would know that soon enough.

She could already tell that this man wasn't one to be fond of.

But, even so…

A spark, small yet unyielding, had already begun in her heart.

Author's Note:

So...yeah, I hope everyone who read this liked this take of the common dancing!EdWin prompt. XD

Don't forget to review, please!