It Started With a Bar Fight

Written for FMA Ladyfest 2010

It started with a bar fight.

Just like it always did. One would have thought that Winry would have learned her lesson about taking the Elric boys out drinking, but time and the burning need for a drink that usually accompanied their visits tended to dull her memory. So despite her better judgment, after a day of listening to babbling and bickering about things she did not even come close to caring about and watching Edward steadfastly dodge the topic of their sort-of engagement whenever she attempted to worm it into conversation, Winry decided that she deserved a drink. Besides, they needed to get out of the house, mingle with the denizens of Rush Valley for a bit. Who knew, some of them might even be invited to a certain gathering in the hypothetical near future; right, Ed?

He mumbled something, suddenly discovering that he had left his wallet in the other room. She resolved to suck it dry. Good practice for being a provider, right Ed? It sounded like something crashed in the other room.

Everything started innocently enough. Alphonse lost no time in finding a niche of people to regale with tales of the east; mostly women, curiously enough. Winry may have cut in to ask how Mei was doing at a somewhat inopportune moment, causing the seasoned traveler to flush. She grinned. Not that she didn't trust the chaste young man, but the doe-eyed women around these parts tended to be sharks.

On her other side, even Ed was socializing nicely; nonviolently, anyway. Arguing about something or other with a man roughly two times his size. Winry's eyes drifted down to the man's automail arm. She tried very hard not to roll her eyes and ask who cheated him. If there was one thing that could sour a good drink, it was poorly designed automail. Cheap, by the looks of it. Perhaps she could find a way to slide herself into the conversation and suggest a few inexpensive tweaks that would make a world of difference.

She was pondering how to do this in a polite way when the punch was thrown. Or, more accurately, when disparaging words were said about someone's stature, followed by a barrage of curses incorporating some creative suggestions about the other man's heritage, followed by a somewhat deserved punch. And so it began.

Winry let out an exasperated sigh, downing the rest of her glass before getting to her feet. Alphonse was disentangling himself from the group to her right with the somewhat weary admission that the small one was his brother.

"Maybe we should let him take a few hits so he learns something," Winry mused.

Alphonse snorted. "If that was all it took for Brother to learn a lesson, you wouldn't have to wonder why you bother taking us places so often."

"Guess I don't learn easy either." The larger man's friends were already grabbing him, so Winry made her way over to grab Ed by the ear, prompting an indignant yelp from her captive.

"Win, quit it—"

"You are why we can't have a nice drink. Can't I just once take you out somewhere?"

"You didn't hear what he was saying!"

"What, he called you short?" That was particularly galling, as Ed was nearly a full head taller than her now.

"No, that—" Ed pulled away from her, giving his opponent the stink eye. "That wasn't it."

Despite her better judgment, Winry turned to look at the other man. Not that angering Ed was a notoriously difficult task, but she had to admit some curiosity. He grinned at her, unabashed. No, she probably did not want to hear this.

"I was just saying what a pretty girl he had."

Winry almost smacked her forehead, but thought better of it and smacked Edward's forehead instead.

"That's it?"

"And," the man continued "wondered how such a scrawny brat could possibly please you."

Winry snorted at that. Ed, scrawny. Right. Maybe compared to the freakishly huge man across from her, but Ed had plenty for her to love, thank you very much. If he ever let her get around to it. Really, that was it? Some light jab at his masculinity? Men. Winry turned back to face Ed, prepared to give him a sound lecture when— was he blushing? Yes, Ed was most definitely avoiding her eyes and blushing, gritting his teeth but making no move toward the other man. It probably helped that Al had a vice grip on his arm, but she would have expected some sort of return taunt.

… Was that seriously something that he was worried about?

The only word to describe the noise that Winry emitted was a growl. As if she hadn't been having enough problems with this whole hypothetical marriage thing before Ed got insecure about something like that. Winry glared, eyes narrowing into the dirtiest look she could muster. This man was directly attacking her chances of a timely engagement.

Two people were still holding him back, one to each arm. He was leaning back into their grasp, with his knees slightly bent. Naturally, physics dictated that his center of balance was off. So naturally, Winry went for the tackle.

And then, chaos.

The course of half an hour saw them bodily thrown out of the bar, staggering back to her apartment, and arguing until their voices went ragged over exactly whose fault the entire thing was. And so, rather than patching Ed up as usual, Winry found herself sitting beside him as Al lectured them both while digging around the cabinet for antiseptic. It was a small blow to the pride.

"I am never taking you out in public again," she muttered, tenderly pressing her finger to the skin right below her eye where an elbow had caught her. Yep, she was going to have a shiner. Rumors that Ed beat her would just be the icing on the cake that was their relationship-fail at the moment.

"I'm not the one who tackled him to the ground," Edward grumbled in return, matching her tone. Something in his expression had her convinced that he was secretly proud of her for that, despite his irritation with the situation at large.

"I'm not the one who had to get so damn sensitive."

"When did I—"

"Quiet!" Al ordered from the next room, having gone to fetch an icepack. Winry was fairly certain that she was going to need at least five.

"Can't even believe you, getting worked up over something like that," she whispered heatedly, continuing before Ed had a chance to cut her off "you think I would have offered you my life if you were the sort to leave me "unsatisfied" in any way?"

That shut him right up, and Winry was decidedly glad for the quiet. She turned her attention to finger-combing her hair, more than a little knotted from the scuffle. She would have gotten a brush, but that required moving, and Winry was resolved to never do that ever again. Everything hurt didn't even come close to describing it. There was a sudden tug at her head, and Winry glanced over to see Ed fingering a matted blonde lock almost introspectively. After a long moment, he grinned.

"You look like shit." It was truly amazing how he could manage to make her heart flutter with those words. Truly. Somehow, the way he said it sounded more like "all in all, not something I'd mind waking up to every morning."

She slapped his injured shoulder anyway.

"You too."