Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Of Ballet and Bullets ❯ Dressed to Kill ( Chapter 11 )

Of Ballet and Bullets

 

Part 11 - Dressed to Kill

 

A Full Metal Alchemist fanfiction, By Serenanna

 

Warnings and Disclaimers: I don't own Full Metal Alchemist or any of the characters. I'm just borrowing them to play with. I'll return them later, promise. There is violence, adult content, and sexual situations in this story. So, if you're under 18, leave now before your virgin eyes are scarred forever, if you're over 18, enjoy!

 

Story Notes: Time frame for this fic doesn't matter as my knowledge of FMA is a bit scattered but obviously before the ending and Maes's death, and set during the anime series. Also, this is an Ed/Winry and Roy/Riza fic (Two for the price of one!). Being this is fanfiction, liberties were taken with the actions of the characters and certain parts of the fic are not canonal, I just don't know which ones. This fic hinges on a lot more plot compared to the last time out in Overhaul, Overhaul 2, and A Betting Crowd, which I recommend reading before diving into this. This one has violent action scenes, suspense, humor, and mild angst in it, so the sex and romance may be few and far between. In summary, you're all getting what I call a real plot. No, really, I'm actually working on a real plot this time! Read the above disclaimers again if you're still squeamish about reading this, blood splatter included, but I assure you, it'll be worth it in the end probably. Again, no pieces of automail, skirts, guns, tuxedoes, or ballet dancers were harmed in the production of this piece of . . . well . . .

 

**********

 

Ed's bare metal foot tapped in nervousness on the floor with a heavy clunk as he sat at the table. This was it, the day of the ballet operation. He wished it was already over with. If an assassin's bullet didn't kill him, the preparations and anticipate would. It took all his effort to keep from groaning in despair and banging his head against the nearest solid object.

 

The past day and a half had passed quickly, too quickly, even if it was all amusing to watch. After whatever argument had happened between the Colonel and his lovely Lieutenant, the man slept on the couch that night. It took all of the FullMetal Alchemist's self-control to keep from howling in laughter at the look on Mustang's face when she put a pillow and sheet on the piece of furniture. How unfortunate it was that the situation didn't last the entire night. By early morning, when he sneaking back from Winry's room, there were loud, suspicious noises coming from Hawkeye's bedroom and a body missing from the couch.

 

Maybe it was better that way. If they did stay mad at each other, he'd be even more paranoid about dying today. Unable to resist this time, Ed clunked his head on the table, trying to get the morose thoughts plaguing him to stop. Everything would be ok, just like Colonel Mustang kept reassuring him. The words sounded more convincing coming out of Riza's mouth though. The three of them had a meeting earlier that morning before Winry woke up, going over the plans. Going over the map, patrols were set up along the gallery seating and private boxes in range of their box, which was on the lowest ring around the hall of the Conservatory. Apparently everyone in their office was to be there that night and undercover as well. It was most fortunate that the mechanic never really met any of their co-workers, or else then she'd really know something was up.

 

Edward knew already where the transmutation circles were in the box since he'd scribed them into the wood paneling himself. They were simple in design, one of his favorites, used to erect barriers as fast as he could touch them. It wouldn't stop the first shot, but they would be watching for that as well. The beauty of going to the ballet was that the hall provided spy glasses to patrons for the performance. No one would be the wiser if they were looking at the dancers or the crowd. All he had to do was make sure Winry was safe and that he was alive when they struck. Simple enough, right? It was, but then again, nothing around him ever went that simply.

 

Not even getting dressed up went that simply. Grumbling to himself, Ed tried to figure out how he'd let himself get talked into this by the blonde Lieutenant. He didn't see the point, but apparently when a guy kept long hair there was one to be had. Maybe he should have cut his hair off like when he was younger then women would fuss over how he took care of it. It had started when he came back from showering to see her standing in the hallway, wrapping in a white robe. Riza asked what he was doing with his hair for the night, and when he just shrugged and said he'd braid it, the conversation went downhill. That was how he got wrangled into sitting at the table in just his undershirt and boxers, waiting for her to come back with an arsenal of hair things.

 

Maybe he should have talked to Winry about it. She liked cooing over and playing with his golden locks more than he did. Then again, after an early supper, the mechanic had sequestered herself in the other half of the extended apartments where he was not admitted what so ever while she got ready. He frowned more, crossing his arms over his chest. Girls, that was the only excuse he could come up with since he never made that big of a deal out of getting dressed up. Then again, it was about once in a blue moon and with much arm twisting that he ever considered any article of clothing that was black or red. Riza walked back into the room, a large comb and a bristle brush one hand, and a few hair ties in the other. Trepidation set in as he nervously glanced at her, “You're not planning something funny with those things, are you?”

 

She laughed softly, putting the brush and ties down on the table before moving behind him, “This is for your own good, Edward. If you'd brushed it out properly, and tried to tame that cowlick, this wouldn't be necessary. You really should take better care of yourself.”

 

The alchemist groaned then flinched as she pulled the teeth through his hair. As soon as Riza came to the first set of tangles, she attacked mercilessly, yanking the comb through no matter how much he squirmed. He gnashed his teeth together, trying to keep from making too much of the pain. Eventually once she pulled the comb through his golden hair enough times to eliminate most of the snags, she grabbed the bristle brush instead. Ed relaxed under the steady movement, hunched in the chair. “When was the last time someone brushed your hair?” Riza asked suddenly after the minutes she'd spent brushing passed in silence.

 

“Winry, a few months ago . . . She likes doing it for me when my arm is disconnected,” he admitted, leaning back in the chair finally, “Do you think . . . I keep asking and you all keep saying it'll be fine, but I can't help it . . .”

 

Her brushing slowed down slightly while pondering his words, knowing exactly what was going through his head. The same thoughts kept going through hers as well. “Edward . . . the more uptight you get, the worst it'll be if something does happen. I've read the mission reports, you've been through worse.”

 

“I know, but I wasn't lying to Winry in the process either. I don't know how you, the Colonel, and everyone else can do it so easily. You all act as if nothing's going on, but something will. She knows . . .” Ed confessed with a low sigh, “She knows something will happen tonight. She tried to question me on it the other day, but when I couldn't tell her, she . . . she said she trusts me anyway . . .”

 

The young alchemist sagged in the chair and went silent before he said too much to the Lieutenant. He didn't deserve Winry's trust in him at all, not if he was bringing her along into certain danger and lying about it. Ed groaned, hanging his head while his hair fell from her fingers, “Just shoot me now, please. It'll be less misery than putting up with her and her tools later.”

 

Riza laughed softly, yanking the brush roughly through the blond head of hair in front of her, “Doom and gloom, Edward, is that all you ever think about?”

 

“Lately, it seems to be a revolving theme.”

 

“You must care about her very much to be this concerned,” she said with a gentle smile. Ed's head whipped around to see the look on her face. There was something in her brown eyes that made him wonder if there was something he didn't know. “Lieutenant Hawkeye . . . what has Winry told you?” he asked, his amber eyes narrowing on the woman.

 

“Nothing I haven't seen for myself,” she said enigmatically, using the brush on his scraggly bangs now that his face was turned. Ed growled, knowing something was up as Riza laughed again, darkness in her mirth. “They haven't struck since a few days ago. This whole thing could be for nothing for all we know. So, I suggest you stop worrying, and enjoy yourself a little till the performance actually begins, then focus on keeping her, and yourself, safe. If everything goes according to plan, she may be angry, but she'll forgive you eventually,” she said as she tried to brush down the cowlick only to see it pop back up with a slight spring, “This is troublesome . . .”

 

“I've tried, for years, it isn't going anywhere,” Ed said as he glanced up at the stubborn piece of hair. He clapped his hair together over it, smoothing the bends out till the strand stood straight up. “There, now it at least looks decent,” he said as the woman sighed, putting the brush down, “Do you really think she'd forgive me that easily?”

 

“I'm not a relationship expert,” Riza said while gathering his hair in her hands, pulling it back, “Given the Colonel, I must be far from it, but . . . if I were her, I'd forgive you . . . after a few well placed explanations and a little time. Women like it when you're sincere.”

 

“What we're doing to her is the complete opposite of sincere.”

 

“But with a reason,” she said while leaning over to grab one of the hair ties. The young alchemist grumbled, hunched over again. Maybe he was over thinking the situation with Winry. Like alchemy, some times the easiest solutions were the best. That didn't stop him from worrying though. He hissed as she yanked his hair, wrapping it in the piece of rubber before one more pull to tighten it. Wincing, Ed reached up to rub his aching scalp, only to have his hand batted away. “Don't touch, Edward. I will not have you ruining my hard work,” she said as she picked up the brush again, running it through the tail.

 

“It's just a stupid ponytail. I can make them on my own,” he groused with a scowl on his face. Riza frowned, pulling rougher on his hair till be sprouted a quick apology. Now she understood why Winry hit him over the head when she was angry with him. Violence from women seemed to subdue FullMetal quicker, like how her guns held the Colonel and his men in line. Grinning, she finished and grabbed the rest of her tools off the table, “It makes you look more mature to keep your hair like that.”

 

She walked away before Ed could reply to the compliment, not noticing how his mouth dropped open or how his amber eyes widened in shock. And yet, Riza could feel him looking at her as she reached her bedroom, “Get dressed, Edward. You have one hour to get ready, and I need to go help Miss Rockbell get into her gown.”

 

“Yes, ma'am,” he muttered, a sarcastic edge on his voice. He honestly didn't see why she needed the older woman's help with a dress. Really, how hard could it be for Winry to get her clothes on?

 

**********

 

Ed's metal foot tapped again on the floor, the leather sole of his shoe only making the noise louder. They were going to be late, he just knew it. He didn't know how Mustang could be so casual about the fact that the two females were taking their time. The Colonel actually yawned from where he leaned on the hallway wall opposite the young alchemist. Snorting in derision, the kid glared back down the passage, the rhythm of the tapping not breaking, “We're going to be late . . .”

 

“When you're older, you'll understand that it take women roughly three times as long to get ready as it does men,” Roy said with a smirk, “Just learn and suck it up, FullMetal.”

 

Ed snorted again, glaring at the older man. There was a lingering bit of contempt in his eyes, along with anger and a touch of jealousy. Even he had to admit that the tuxedo looked better on Roy than it did him. No matter how much the tailor reassured him it was fit right, Edward still felt awkward, pulling down on the cuffs of the black jacket for about the tenth time. “Stop fidgeting before you wrinkle,” Mustang warned, barely able to keep the laughter from his voice.

 

Biting the inside of his mouth was all he could do to keep from grinning malevolently. This was a better form of torture for the wayward kid than he could have ever devised if he tried. Ed growled lowly, tugging on the starched collar of the white shirt and the black bow-tie underneath, “Easy for you to say. Why couldn't you let me wear the black shirt and red tie? I'd look less like a copy of you.”

 

“Bullshit, you're too uptight to look anything like me,” Roy scowled at him, more insulted by the implication that Ed knew, “Besides, the unwritten dress code for these things is black-tie, just go with it.”

 

“This is the first and last time I'm going to anything this remotely formal again.”

 

“My, won't Miss Rockbell be disappointed when you don't ask her to the Fuhrer's Midwinter Military Ball. But then again, she must be used to it as you've never asked anyone to it before,” Mustang mused, rubbing a gloved hand under his clean-shaven chin, “I wonder if she'd accept if I asked her . . .”

 

Of course, Roy knew he would do no such thing, but he'd seen FullMetal's soft spot in regards to the girl. It was too tempting not to goad the brat just a little. Ed's glare at the Colonel became murderous while he stood completely oblivious to the midget's rising temper. The only way Roy Mustang would ask Winry out anywhere was over his cold corpse. Even then he was positive Al would defend her honor . . . that was if she still had an honor to defend. Groaning, Ed went back to staring down the hall, “You won't get a chance. When this is all over, I'm going back to Rizembool with her, Al, and my suitcase for leave.”

 

“What about the Stone?”

 

“There haven't been many rumors lately after Lior, at least nothing requiring immediate attention. After this long, it can wait a little while longer.”

 

Roy blinked, not quite believing the kid's words. But then again, he didn't have a reason to lie about his intentions. Slowly, the Colonel's look of disbelief turned into a grin, “Well, I'll be damned. Maybe you aren't such a tight wad of a pip-squeak after all.”

 

“Who are you calling a pip-squeak so small he's tinier than lint?!” Ed yelled, jumping back up and fisting his hands.

 

“I take it back. You're never going to change that easily.”

 

Just when the young alchemist opened his mouth argue that point for the sake of arguing, there was a clicking of heels on the wooden floor. They both looked up to see Riza standing at the end of the hallway, poised with one hand on her hip that was cocked to the side. “Am I interrupting something?” she asked.

 

From their mutual blank stares, she could tell she wasn't going to get an answer anyway. She grinned. From the way their mouths had dropped open, she'd chosen the right gown. Roy was dumbfounded, absolutely beside himself as he watched the blonde walk towards him. If she'd worn that dress before the whole betting fiasco that started their relationship, he would have absolutely begged her for a date, a series of dates, every date he'd ever take again in his life.

 

The black silk chiffon just about floated in the air as she moved, like a cloud of darkness following her. Held up by thin beaded straps of onyx crystals on her shoulders, the neckline dipped in a low V to her bust, showing a generous amount of cleavage. The fabric was gathered in fine pleats down over her abdomen to the juncture of her legs. Another piece of silk wrapped over her hips in the illusion of being tied in place. A separate panel hung over the massive splits in the flowing skirt up the front of her legs, the finely pleated silk pooling on the floor behind her. Riza stopped before him, slowly turning for his inspection.

 

There was no back to her gown, a clear sight from her shoulders to just above her hips.

 

“Oh God . . .” Roy groaned, clamping a hand over his mouth to muffle his words, “Do I want to know where you've hidden all those guns and ammo?”

 

The Lieutenant beamed at him. She pulled up one side of the gown's skirts to reveal the pistons and ammunition clips strapped to her leg in garters and holsters that looked as frilly as they did sturdy. Without thinking, Mustang placed a hand over FullMetal's eyes, “For goodness sake, woman, he's too young to see that! Put it away!”

 

Ed snarled, shaking the hand off, “Like hell I am!”

 

Riza laughed, dropping the fabric back in place, “There's another set on the other side, one in my handbag, and two smaller ones in places you don't want to know.”

 

Roy doubted that as he really, really wanted to know! It took most of his self control to keep from wanting to take the gown off of her right then and there. The only thing that stopped him was that they'd be even later to the ballet if he did . . . and the presence of the midget. Later, much later, he silently swore, he'd strip search his beautiful Lieutenant for those guns and he would enjoy every filthy, sinful moment of it.

 

Once the lust had passed, he had to admit that she indeed looked gorgeous tonight. From the light make-up on her face, to how her pale yellow locks were held back from her face with small jeweled clips, he couldn't help just stare. Idly, he reached up to tuck a strand of loose hair behind her ear, admiring the dangling earrings of diamonds set in white gold weighted down by black pearl teardrops. It matched the short necklace hanging from her throat adorned with a larger pearl more steely grey than midnight black. He even liked the dark opera length gloves she wore with a diamond bracelet on one wrist. For tonight, Roy felt like the luckiest man in the world, and his grin showed it. At least he was grinning until Edward spoke up, “Congratulations, Riza. I think you've succeeded in turning Colonel Bastard into Colonel Speechless.”

 

“Shut up, FullMetal.”

 

“Correction, Colonel Asshole is more accurate.”

 

“Shut up unless you want to be char-broiled, shrimp!”

 

“Make me, Colonel Flamer!”

 

Roy was about to yell back, another insult on the tip of his tongue when there was a click of metal on metal in the air. Looking up, Riza held a gun pointed at the both of them, the top of her beaded handbag turned open. “One more uncivil word out of either of you, and I will shoot you both,” she threatened, glaring.

 

Slowly, both of the men backed down, sheepishly avoiding looking at each other and her. Sighing, she put the weapon away then turned to Roy, “You're packing too right.”

 

Grumbling to himself, Mustang opened his tuxedo jacket, flashing the shoulder hostler strapped to him and the gun within it. Before he could stop her Riza moved forward and reached around to his back, finding a second pistol tucked into the back of his pants. Despite himself, Roy flustered at her closeness, holding his hands up to keep from touching her. He could tell even putting one finger on her would be bad, especially this close as he could see straight down her naked back. Losing his self-control right now was not an option, digging up every un-sexy thought he could summon. Maes and his damned photos again, Havoc with a hangover, Armstrong and those damned sparkles . . . Roy shuddered. “Um, are you done yet?” he asked while noticing how she lingered, her arms wrapped over him.

 

The Lieutenant blushed a shade deeper than her make-up before pulling away entirely, “Just making sure everything is secure . . . sir.”

 

Nothing could have stopped Ed from snickering at the sight of the two adults, or the Lieutenant's words, “If you're both finished . . .”

 

Roy scowled at him, angrily buttoning his tuxedo jacket again and shoving his hands in his pockets, “We are.”

 

“Gloves in place?”

 

“Underneath the top pair,” he said frowning at her, “Those are the last thing I'd forget you know.”

 

Riza tried not to look too put out by his words, unconsciously reaching up to straighten the Colonel's tie, “You do know how to use them, sir?”

 

“I've fired guns before. I'm not as good as you, but it's an insurance policy just in case.”

 

“Just in case you get wet, you mean,” Edward said with a smirk, gaining another scowl from Mustang. This time the Lieutenant looked darkly at him too, and his amusement died a slow death. “Ok, ok, no more pot-shots tonight,” he grudgingly muttered, crossing his arms over his chest, “She is taking a good long while . . .”

 

His foot went back to tapping nervously while watching the hallway. A minute later, there was the sound of a door in the distance, and heels on the wood floor before Winry came into view. The tapping stopped, and for a moment, so did the beating of Edward's heart.

 

It then started again with a clenching in his chest and a very big intake of breath, one he held in tight. Watching the girl slowly walk down the hallway with a nervous look in her blue eyes started a funny twitch on the corner of Ed's mouth, unable to keep from staring at her. Every part of him felt rather twitchy, trying desperately to stay within his own skin. Seeing the brilliant smile on Winry's face though made it hard to do as he muttered under his breath, once more finding religion, “Holy shit . . .”

 

Purple was his new favorite color on her at least.

 

The silk satin gown was strapless in a straight line across Winry's bust and corseted tightly till her small curves were not so small anymore. Two layers of skirts were attached to the deep V at her waist, the first pulled up and draped in large pleated around her hips while the second fell to the floor and trailed behind her. The vibrant silk was further painted with a flow of stylized black and lavender flowers that trailed from the corset down over skirts till the entire hem looked like a walking garden. The long gloves she wore matched the color of the gown, as did the amethyst studded bracelet she wore on one wrist, the same shade of vivid purple with a hint of darkness.

 

Her pale hair was coiled up on the back of her head, leaving a single tail to fall past her shoulders. All the metal in her ears was replaced by a series of finer white gold hoops and amethyst cuffs, but it was nothing compared to the collar around her neck. Ed was fairly certain that the delicate, open framework of white gold adorned with white diamonds and amethyst teardrops had cost someone a fortune. It was probably his fortune, but to look at her, he'd spend it all over again.

 

Winry looked beautiful, the only word he could apply to her out of all the other adjectives circling in his head. Sure, he'd thought of her as beautiful many times before, but this was a different beauty, one that wasn't hidden under automail grease, one for the world to see. And yet, touch of jealousy spread through him, not wanting the rest of humanity to realize for one night only what he knew already. His amber eyes looked torn when they gazed into hers, going between fear and adoration before settling on the latter. He couldn't help smiling at her, the words he wanted to say going to his eyes instead.

 

She'd noticed the reactions as each one passed across Ed's face, and it was flattering, very flattering, and gratifying. To think she had this much of an effect on the FullMetal Alchemist made her walk with a little more confidence rather than as if she was on eggshells. She couldn't help it with the shoes on her feet, trying not to wobble on them at least not until she had a hand on him for support. Fate, though, seemed to have a difference of opinion. Walking delicately with the skirt lifted in her hand, the illusion of the grace she didn't possess shattered with a staggering trip forward.

 

Ed sprung to catch Winry by the elbows, holding her close till she regained her balance. For a moment, there was a very heated look in his eyes, making her blush pink all over. Even after she got her feet under her, they remained almost locked together, hugging . . . but not. Their actions and stuck glances weren't lost on either of the adults, particularly Roy. The Colonel's dark eyebrows arched upwards at the sight of FullMetal's sudden interest the opposite sex instead of alchemy or the Philosopher's Stone. When the hell did this change take place? And how in the hell did he miss it? Mustang looked about one second away from voicing that question when Riza latched onto his arm, dragging him away from the teenagers. “We should get the coats, come along, sir,” she said, resisting the urge to wink back at them.

 

Dazed, he let himself be led away, not about to argue with the sexy woman on his arm out of fear of her arsenal. It didn't dampen his curiosity though. As soon as they were by the door, Roy turned to his Lieutenant, unable to keep his eyes from looking anything but shocked, “What in the blazes was that back there?”

 

“Obviously he liked the dress,” Riza said as she started pulling the long woolen wrap cloaks they'd purchased for herself and the mechanic from the rack, “And you obviously liked mine, so don't make much about it.”

 

“Oh, please, I know sexual interest when I see it. That kid is going to try to get laid tonight if he doesn't get killed first.”

 

In mock horror that sounded surprisingly real, she gasped at him, her mouth hanging open. “Roy!” she said in a hiss, trying to keep her voice down, “It is absolutely none of our business whatever those two choose to do or not to do, so stick your nose out of it or so help me I'll-!”

 

Her rant stopped as soon as she noticed the delicious grin on his face. There was something unnerving in his stare too, which made a blush crept over her skin. “Come on. You'll do what?” he taunted her, moving closer till she was trapped between the wall and him, “I would absolutely love to hear what you'd do to me.”

 

Riza's mouth dropped open, moving up and down nervously till she squashed it. He was doing this on purpose, which started to fuel her anger. The ticket fiasco was bad enough, and his excuse was practically non-existent. She never should have forgiven him in the first place. “If tonight goes as planned, the Hawkeye boarding house is closed. I would suggest you be on your best behavior, sir, if you ever want another overnight stay,” she said coolly, taking much pleasure in the deflation of his grin.

 

“You always have to hit below the belt don't you?” Mustang asked rhetorically, pouting. The Lieutenant's red-painted lips unconsciously moved into a grin. So he could pout after all. “Ah, but it works doesn't it?” she asked as well, turning slightly.

 

Before she could escape completely, his hand grabbed her upper arm as he leaned in slightly, “You win, no questioning the midget over this, but I demand compensation.”

 

Her blush turned into an inferno in her cheeks, “Roy, we do not have time for-!”

 

Riza's next tirade was abruptly stopped as the back of his hand brushed her hair from her shoulders then drew up the side of her neck. “Did I tell you that you look beautiful tonight?” Mustang said lowly, leaning in closer, “Sexy, actually, very sexy.”

 

It took every ounce of dignity Hawkeye had to keep from melting on the spot. Her lips quivered. Ever since entering the hallway, she'd tried to ignore how good he looked in a tuxedo. Then again, Mustang could have made burlap sexy if he tried. In the black suit, he didn't have to try at all which was all the more beguiling. She whimpered with knees pressed together to keep from knocking together as his lips hovered close to hers. This was trouble.

 

At least until there was a knock on the door.

 

**********

 

Neither Ed nor Winry noticed the exit of the adults. The alchemist's voice had failed him entirely along with the rest of his traitorous body, refusing to let go of the girl. Nothing seemed real to him, the situation, the smile on her face, the light in her blue eyes, nothing. Impending doom seemed miles away, so far gone that he would even find it with a map. And then she giggled, reality setting back in. Edward laughed too, nervous and self-conscious of the fact of how idiotic he was being. The grin on his face was wiped away in an instant as he tried to compose him and find his higher brain functions again. Winry pulled away with a step back, thankfully keeping her feet under her again, “Thank you, for the save I mean.”

 

“Uh, don't mention it,” Ed said, starting to reach up to scratch his hair before yanking his arm back down. Well, that was almost stupid. Leaving the house with a lopsided ponytail would have only confirmed his stupidity. This was all her fault for getting him unglued by looking so good. He didn't feel worthy of her at all, a notion that only settled in when he realized that he was looking up at her more so than usual. “You're taller than me,” he stated as neutral as he could.

 

There was no way he was letting his short complex effect him right now even if it was a little obvious. Winry's eyes fell a little. What that all he could say?! He obviously liked her appearance, but was it that hard for him to compliment her? How could he point out that her heels made their height difference all the more obvious? Edward Elric's ability to ruin the mood never seemed to fail. “Oh . . .” she said, trying not to show her disappointment before it seething into roiling anger, “Is that all?”

 

“What?” he asked, blinking at her. What did she need to do, spell it out for him? Forget being lady-like, where was a wrench when she needed it?

 

Ed knew right away something was wrong when she stopped smiling. What had he done now? Ok, so those weren't the smartest words he'd ever spoken in his life, but at least it was the truth. For a moment, the blonde looked as if she was holding herself from violence, which only made him more nervous and his mind disappear. Shit, what was he missing? He looked into her blue eyes for some clue before her temper came to full boil. There he found it, disappointment. He was missing something; he just didn't know what it was. Her small fists shook a moment before she hid them behind her back, standing rigid on her heels. “Winry?” Edward asked quietly, knowing she was about to explode.

 

Indeed, she was very close to pounding him where he stood when her wrath was tempered by a knock on the door. With a swish of silk, and a barely audible sigh, she walked past him to the door. The Colonel and Miss Hawkeye were already there speaking with another man in a tuxedo, one she'd seen the other day. Ed came up behind her, frowning, “Looks like our ride is here.”

 

“Who is it?”

 

“Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc, a friend.”

 

Winry blinked at him, her eyebrows furrowing a moment, “Why is he here? Isn't it against policy or something for him to be using personnel as chauffeurs or something?”

 

“It's nothing, relax. He's just escorting us since the Colonel's a little worried about security, just procedure,” Ed lied, trying not to shuffling his feet while looking away from her anyway. No, he didn't convince her at all as she took a deep breath. Something smelled fishy about the whole situation as her pink-painted lips pursed, but . . .

 

No matter how much her eyebrows knitted together, she stayed silent about her suspicions. The other day she said that she trusted him and by choosing not to ask this was her, trusting him, or so she thought. After a polite introduction, and the jostling of coats, hats, scarves, and wraps, they proceeded out of the building in a small troop. For some reason, the mood wasn't a joyous or as romantic as she'd pictured it being on Ed's arm. There was a definite grim determination about all of them, and it chilled her more that the winter breeze at night once they passed outside. For some reason, Edward lagged a little behind once they were out the door till she felt like he was almost dragging him along. Huffing out a cloud of moist steam, Winry let go of his arm and turned on him, sounding more upset than she intended, “What is it, Edward? Why aren't you happy?”

 

Was it that bad to go on a formal date with her? It seemed that way from the touch of fear in his amber eyes. He took one glance at Colonel Mustang and the two Lieutenants, who were standing by the car watching the pair, and then looked at her. “I'm not happy if you're not happy, and you aren't happy . . . are you?” he asked in all sincerity.

 

Winry's previous anger at him, and bewilderment fizzled, leaving her back to what she originally felt when he didn't compliment her at least, disappointment. Gathering up her courage, she confessed, “No, I'm not happy . . .”

 

Ed looked disappointed too, slightly hunched before a thought occurred to him. She could see the wheels turning in his head like usually, almost smirking as he was obviously trying to come up with a way out. The blonde was about to call him on it when he reached forward and tugged her towards the snow. Winry yelped, nearly sliding in the heels and stopping abruptly before her dress got ruined, “Edward! This is no time for-!”

 

Letting go of her hand, he trudged through the snow anyway, oblivious to getting it all over his clothes. “Stay there then!” he shouted as he started to crouch down before he remembered something, “And close your eyes!”

 

“What?!”

 

“I know you hate it when I do alchemy, so close them!”

 

Sighing, she did as he asked with gloved hands over her eyes to keep from looking. At least Ed was considerate enough to remember her fear. Watching him and Al do alchemy for her the first time had been slightly traumatizing, leaving her unable to stand repeat performances no matter how innocuous the results. And yet, as soon as she heard his hands clap together, and the surge of blue-white light, her fingers drifted open slightly. Winry's gasp was inaudible over crackle of power, fresh green stems sprouting right from the snow. Within moments, the light and sound coalesced into a petite bush crowned with roses in full bloom. They were the same violet shade as her gown, making her gasp again. Ed looked up at the sound, panicked that she'd seen too much till he saw the awe in her blue eyes while she clasped her mouth. “Maybe . . .” she started to say, slowly lowering her hands away, “Maybe alchemy isn't so bad after all.”

 

Proud and slightly bashful at the same time, the alchemist plucked off a handful of flowers, pruning them of their stems and thorns. “I know they aren't much, but . . .” Ed said as he stopped in front of her, pressing them into her hands, “But . . . mom always was happy with the flowers my father made. I thought you might like them too.”

 

Winry's smile turned back to radiance again, making Edward's heart do somersaults. She did have a way of making him feel a world better with just a look. “Thank you,” she said, lifting the roses to smell them.

 

Ed's heart flipped again, sure that he'd die right there whether he got shot or not.

 

Slowly, she lifted them to her hair, intending to stick the stems through the blond coils to wear them. Unsure of how the flowers looked, or if they were even secure, Winry asked, “Could you help me? I don't know if I got it.”

 

“But you look beautiful already.”

 

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the alchemist turned ten shades of red. He did not just say that did he? He did indeed say just that while her smile went from heartwarming to heart-arresting. Trying to keep his heart from beating right out of his chest, Ed ignored her expression, reaching up instead to fiddle with the flowers. It was all he could do to keep from turning into mindless, drooling idiot. Finished, he was about to pull his raised arms away when Winry caught him by the elbows, tugging him closer towards her. His blush turned back up till he probably tomato-red, “Uhhhhh, what are you-?”

 

“Don't you want to kiss me?” she asked as his mouth dropped open. In that moment, every part of him except for what little remained of his common sense screamed at him to do just that. The way she leaned in was temptation enough, warm breath over his cheeks contrasting with the cold air. Could he chance it? Oh, how he so wanted to, especially as she hovered just by his lips. She was almost begging to be kissed Ed stole a quick glance at the other officers, seeing how Lieutenant Hawkeye had Colonel Busybody preoccupied for the moment and turned the other way. It was now or never. Wrapping his arms tightly over Winry's neck, he covered her lips with his while she squealed in at the suddenness.

 

Her voice then dropped into a murmur that sounded like a moan, unable to do anything else under the assault of his mouth. Ed didn't let up even as her fingers clenched his shoulders. Her head tilted to the side, letting his tongue slip into her mouth as he poured ever emotion he felt for her into his lips. If this was the last kiss he got before dying, he was making sure it was one to remember. It seemed like an eternity or just a fleeting moment when he finally let her go, trying not to gasp for air. Winry's eyes had drifted closed only to open again with a flutter of lashes and a dazed look, “Wow . . .”

 

Ed had the same thoughts exactly, reluctantly letting go of the beauty in his arms.

 

“We should be going,” he said, sounding a touch depressed, “We're going to be late.”

 

“We'll be right on time.”

 

There was reassurance in her voice, and he believed her moving back on the path to take her arm. The blush in her cheek was bright pink, unsteady again in the heels as they clicked over the stones. Idly, the back of her hand ran up his coat sleeve, drawing his attention till he looked into her eyes. “You look very handsome in a tuxedo, Edward, and mature. You should dress up more often,” Winry said with a grin, watching his amber eyes widen.

 

“Really?”

 

“Better than Colonel Mustang to me at least. I always did like your hair in a ponytail too.”

 

His heart jumped once more, a stupid grin plastered all over his face. She giggled, effectively wiping the grin away till he grumbled, “You're just saying that to be nice.”

 

“Hummmm, ask me that later when I rip it off of you.”

 

Ed's mouth dropped open, almost sure his nose was about to gush with blood till he took one giant breath. This was going to be a very, very long night.

 

**********

 

To Be Continued in Of Ballet and Bullets, Part 12, The Turning Point.