Title: Close as the Summer Air

Author: S J Smith

Rating: PG

Summary: Ed and Winry aren't going to be late to their appointment...are they?

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing.

Notes: Written for the LJ Community, FireandIce2011, for the prompt of Cloud Watching.

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The sun shone down over the rolling hills, transforming the dandelions into nuggets of gold that studded the rich green of the grass. The shepherds and their dogs moved flocks of sheep through those hills, taking them from one field to another. The flocks ran along in a group like grey clouds, attended by the slinky dogs that gathered up any stragglers, guiding them in the directions the drovers wanted the animals to go. As they ran along the dirt roads of Risembool, dust followed them. The dirt clouds rose over the roads, making any traveler in the know aware the sheep were being moved.

A pair of said travelers stood on the side of the road as a quartet of dogs moved a massive flock of bleating sheep and their progeny from the valleys of spring up to the fields of summer. Dirt rose from the hooves of the sheep, churning dust into the air. By the time the flock had moved by, the pair were left coughing and coated in the creamy dirt of the Risembool roads.

"This was a bad idea, Ed," Winry coughed, slapping at the hem of her skirt. "We're going to be filthy by the time we get to town."

Edward brushed at the front of his shirt. "So we'll get a little dusty." He held out his hand to her, tugging her up against his chest once she'd relented enough to take his hand. "It's okay, Winry." She tucked her face into the crook of his neck. Edward felt the tickle of her breath in the collar of his shirt. It made him wriggle his shoulders, and he rubbed her back to make up for it. He could feel how tense Winry was, pressed against him. "Don't you believe me?" he asked.

Winry whined. "I believe you, but." She pulled back a little, brushing at the dirt on his collar and making a face.

Reaching into his trouser pocket, Edward pulled out his pocket watch, opening the case and showing it to her. "We've got plenty of time. Come on." Keeping his arm around Winry's waist, he guided her away from the dusty road and up the grassy hill instead. The further away they got from the road, the cleaner the air tasted, less dust and sheep, more grass, flowers and sunlight.

Edward took a deep breath as they reached the top of the hill, letting it out in a loud, "Ahh!" He spread his arms, out to his sides, flexing the muscles in his back, extending his fingers as far as he could, turning in a slow circle. Grinning at Winry, he caught her hands, spinning her around, so that her hair swept out behind her, and the sky twirled with them.

"Ed!" Winry squealed, her eyes brighter than the sun. Edward laughed, distracted by her smile, and his feet tangled together. They tumbled onto the ground, everything still spinning around them. "Oh," she moaned, "dizzy." Covering her eyes with her hand, she took deep breaths, while Edward rolled onto his back, still laughing.

When the world finally stopped revolving, Edward picked a dandelion, teasing Winry's nose with the yellow head of it. She giggled, taking the flower from him, and holding it close to take a sniff at it. "Do you remember the game we used to play?"

"Hmm?" Edward plucked a stem of foxtail grass, chewing on the spicy-sweet end of it, the seed head bobbing. Stretching his arm out, he wrapped it around Winry's shoulders, pulling her against his shoulder. "I remember watching the clouds." With his free hand, he pointed at the sky, at the puffs of vapor drifting overhead. "We'd make up stories about the shapes we saw." He smiled softly, nuzzling Winry's temple, her sweet scent stronger than the road dust.

"You actually remember that?" Winry twisted onto her side, the dandelion pressed against her mouth. "I didn't think you did. When Al and I were talking about all the things we did when we were kids, you said." She shrugged.

Huffing, Edward ran his fingers along her shoulders. "You two were really mean to me," he grumbled, frowning when Winry snickered. "You were!"

She tapped him on the nose with the flower. "You were mean to us, too. Putting bugs down the backs of the girls' dresses."

"Not yours," Edward growled. "You put bugs down mine and Pitt's shirts. I remember that, Winry." Leaning close, he snapped his teeth at her, then rubbed his nose against hers, squishing the dandelion between them, making it fall to the ground. Winry's giggle tickled something deep inside him, making him laugh along. "You were meaner than I ever thought of being," he told her.

Snorting, Winry rolled away from him. Her profile wasn't as stony as she might've wanted it to appear. Edward turned onto his side, laying his hand on her stomach. His hand rose and fell with her breath. Winry shifted, poking at his ribs to make him squirm for a second, then laced her fingers together over his. "I was not." The token protest sounded more like a pout. "You were an awful little boy."

Edward rubbed her stomach. "Me? You weren't Little Miss Sweetness, yourself! I may not remember all that much about being a kid, but I know you got into as many fights as I did! With people other than me and Al, even!" He started ticking off the memories on his fingers. "That time with the Pritcher kids, and what about Abner? You really pissed him off. And - "

Winry slapped his hands. "You made your point, Ed!" She glared at his giggle. "Brat!"

"Me?" Edward laced his fingers with hers. "If I was one, you were, too."

"You still are," Winry said, huffing. She tugged her hands free, snatching up handfuls of grass and throwing them on Edward. Yelping, he tried to roll away, even as Winry tore up more blades, wadding them up and flinging them at him. Edward scrambled to his hands and knees, snickering as Winry threw more grass after him. "Jerk!"

"Hey! That's not nice!" He ruined his indignation by laughing when blades of grass showered over his head. "This isn't any better than the dust, Winry!" Grabbing another foxtail weed, he smacked her arm with the head. "You're going to get grass stains on your dress and they don't come out like dust."

Winry gave him a sidelong look that made Edward drop the foxtail and scramble out of reach. "If you'd listened to me – but no, you had to be impatient! So we had to walk through all the dust from the sheep."

"We could've gone over the hills," Edward protested, balancing his weight, ready to dodge to either side if she suddenly pulled her wrench out of nowhere. He'd seen it happen before; he was kind of scared to think where she might hide it, to tell the truth.

"And then what? Waded through cowpats?" Winry jammed her fists on her hips, glaring at him.

"You could've ridden on my back!" And it wasn't like cowpats weren't easy to avoid…unless the grass was long.

"Right, until you decided I was too heavy, and dumped me off!"

"Like I would do that to you!" Edward snarled at her.

Winry pointed at him, shaking her finger. "You've done it before!"

Edward howled, "When we were six!"

"It still counts!" Winry roared back at him. "You dumped me in the mud!"

"You were being a bitch!"

"I was not!" She took a step closer, poking Edward in the chest with her finger. "Besides, you're not supposed to say those kinds of words when you're six!"

"Doesn't change that that's what you were being," Edward told her, grabbing for her finger and catching hold of her hand. "Just like now." He kissed her knuckles when her hand tensed in his grip. "And it doesn't mean I don't like it." Gently opening her fist, Edward placed a kiss in her palm. Peeking through his bangs, he smiled at her.

"So you're saying you like me being a bitch?" Winry's eyebrow twitched at that, and, from the tone of her voice, Edward knew he'd better come up with a really good answer to that question, and quickly.

"It's kind of," Edward ran through a list of adjectives as fast as his brain could go. "Hot!" He kept hold of her hand so she couldn't hit him.

"Edward." The flat, clipped tone of his name was a definite warning, and Winry still had a free fist she could use.

"It is!" He grinned hopefully. "I mean, you can't see it, but your eyes…and you get all…" Edward knew he was failing. Winry's eyes were getting narrower with every word he spoke. "You're pretty! Even when you're covered in grease and oil; and smell like metal," she made a noise deep in her throat, and he hurried on, "or you're wearing those magnifying goggles." He gave her a long look. "And even if you're covered in road dust, you're still the prettiest girl I know."

"And I'm even better looking when I'm mad?" That free hand went to her hip.

He scrubbed fitfully at the back of his neck. "Aheh?"

"Is that a yes, Ed?"

"Uh, yeah?"

Winry sighed, loud and deep, but whatever she'd been about to say was cut off by the faint cry of the locomotive whistle. "Oh, geeze! I didn't know it was that late!" She grabbed Edward's hand. "We have to go if we're going to meet the train!"

"But - " Edward stumbled a couple of steps before he caught up to Winry. They ran down the hill and pounded along the road. He wasn't going to say that by the time they got to Risembool, the dust they were covered in would be mud. Rarely did he win arguments with Winry, even when they were about things like this.

Staggering up to the train station, Edward wrapped an arm around Winry's shoulders, helping steady her, even if he felt wobbly-legged himself. His lungs worked like a bellows, and sweat tracked down his face and along his spine. "You stink!" she grumbled, shoving his arm off.

"You made me run to the train station!" He wasn't about to tell her that she smelled, too. Edward had learned not to be so dumb about Winry and her feelings since he'd come back from the West. Bending over, he planted his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Cinders from the locomotive engine floated through the air, one landing on his cheek and stinging his skin. Edward bit back a curse, brushing it away. "This better be worth it."

"What?" Winry glanced over at him and he waved her off. She turned her attention back to the train, her hands twisting together, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "I'm so excited, Ed!"

Her face glowed, and Edward couldn't help but smile back at her, straightening up. He fished a handkerchief out of his pocket, wiping his face. The soft cotton fabric was streaked with dirt when he started to fold it up again. Mouth quirking, Edward folded a clean side up, and began wiping Winry's cheek. She batted at his hand until she realized what he was doing. "Thanks," she mumbled, glancing sideways, and reminded him she was really cute when she blushed, too.

There were only a few people leaving the train car, and Alphonse shouted their names, waving a hand over his head when he spotted them. They crashed together, a crushing hug, nearly winding up in a heap again on the platform. Alphonse pulled back first, shaking his head at them. "Did you roll through the road to get here?"

Winry fussed with her hair, shifting her shoulders. "They're moving the sheep."

"Oh," Alphonse sighed. He dusted off the front of Edward's shirt. "You couldn't have walked through the grass?"

"I asked that." Winry shot Edward a look.

"I offered to take her through the fields," he began.

Alphonse made a face. "Brother, through the cowpats?" Putting his hands on their shoulders, he turned them to move them out of the train station.

"I would've carried her!" Edward snapped, letting Alphonse guide them along. He thought of the sheepdogs, and the way they herded their flocks. A trickle of cold sweat slithered down his spine at the direction they were going. He swallowed, and glanced at Winry. Her mouth tight, her chin tilted up, her eyes wide, she looked more like she was headed to her execution. Edward grabbed her fingers, giving them a squeeze.

They all stopped, staring up at the nondescript brick building, a cement border bisecting the first and second floors. Edward's mouth went dry as he read the words imprinted in the border. "Registry Office." His larynx bobbed and he tightened his grip on Winry's fingers.

Pinako appeared in the doorway, scowling down at them. "You two are a mess! I can't believe it." She sniffed. "Your wedding picture is going to look terrible."

They turned to each other, Edward taking in the dust streaks on Winry's forehead, the tangles in her hair. She had to see blades of grass stuck to his skin and the yellow tinge to the collar of his shirt. Winry's dress had the grass stain he'd warned her about, and Edward was sure his backside probably wasn't much better. But then Winry smiled, and his heart soared.

"No it won't, Granny," Edward said, looping his fingers around the back of Winry's neck. "It'll be perfect." Tugging her close, he leaned his forehead against hers. "Let's get married."

"Okay," Winry murmured back, and they climbed the steps to the office, together.

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