Work Text:
Repair / rəˈper / verb – to fix or mend a thing suffering from damage or a fault; to restore to a good or sound condition; to mend.
“Damn,” Lieutenant Hawkeye sighed.
Peering beneath the hood of her Colonel’s automobile was rather pointless, as the jumble of metal and wire within was utterly incomprehensible to her. She did it anyway, for want of a better plan, and found that the clouds of billowing white smoke were already beginning to dissipate. The initial appearance of such smoke probably did not bode well for the overall health of the engine.
“Now what?” she wondered aloud.
Perhaps she could phone one of the mechanics back at HQ…they might be willing to assist her with a civilian vehicle if they knew it belonged to Colonel Mustang. Then again, they might refuse to help out of sheer spite –there was certainly no shortage of jealous enlisted men in the motor pool who’d be happy to see the infamous playboy suffer a little.
“But I’m the one suffering at the moment,” Hawkeye thought, annoyed. “I wonder whether they’d take that into consideration. I suppose I could always ring General Grumman; ask him to put in the request…”
She hated being beholden to her grandfather. Worse, he knew how she felt about accepting favors from him. If she asked for his help, he’d eventually use it as leverage to ensure her participation in some convoluted political head-game disguised as a charity fundraiser. Or, heaven help her, as another stupid masquerade ball.
A young female voice startled Hawkeye from her reverie.
“Um, excuse me. Lieutenant? Lieutenant Hawkeye?” said the voice.
“Yes?” Hawkeye said warily, straightening and turning.
She found herself facing a pretty blue-eyed teenager, whose long blonde hair was neatly pulled back into a ponytail. Although the day was rather hot, the girl was wearing a jacket and boots with her short skirt. A slender-but-blossoming figure was shown off to advantage in the snug white top beneath the jacket.
“It’s Winry, Winry Rockbell?” the girl prompted. Her bright smile slipped a bit. “You probably don’t remember me…” she trailed off.
Rockbell, Rockbell…Oh! Edward Elric’s young mechanic; the one whose beautiful thick hair Hawkeye had secretly admired when they’d met. The girl had been a mere child then, a sulky little wisp of a thing who’d fearlessly declared her hatred of military personnel even as she’d served Hawkeye a perfectly brewed cup of tea in delicate china.
“Oh, yes, of course!” Hawkeye replied, offering a polite smile. “Please excuse me, Miss Rockbell. You’ve grown quite a bit taller since last we met. I almost didn’t recognize you.”
“It has been awhile,” Winry agreed, shifting uneasily and tucking a stand of hair behind her ear.
She was nervous, Hawkeye realized. But why?
Whatever her reason was, Winry apparently felt that she had to justify greeting a relative stranger with such boldness, and she began to babble somewhat awkwardly.
“You look exactly the same, though, Ms. Hawkeye; you haven’t changed a bit! Well, except that your hair is longer, now,” she said.
Hawkeye reflexively brushed her fingertips over her hair, which was twisted up neatly into its usual clip. As she did so, she vaguely recalled a memo that had crossed her desk days earlier, something about Edward requesting leave to go back home and take care of some routine maintenance. She remembered thinking that memos like those were often followed by emergency trips to replace irrevocably damaged parts that had gone neglected a bit too long.
“I assume you’re in town to see to Edward’s automail, then?” she asked.
“Yep!” the girl affirmed, brightening a little. “He was supposed to come home last week so I could work on his leg, but then Granny needed a few supplies here in East City anyway, so we decided I should meet him out here, for a change.”
“I see. I’d offer you a ride to your hotel, but,” Hawkeye grimaced. “Unfortunately I’m having a bit of engine trouble at the moment.”
They both glanced over at the Colonel’s vehicle, whose engine was still gently steaming.
“Want me to take a look?” Winry offered. Surprised, Hawkeye turned back toward her.
“You’re experienced with engine repair as well as automail?” she asked, impressed.
Winry shrugged.
“I’ve got some general mechanical know-how,” she replied, modestly. “Mostly tractors, but they aren’t so different under the hood.”
“I’d be very much obliged to you. It’s actually the Colonel’s personal vehicle, and I honestly don’t know who normally services it for him,” Hawkeye confessed.
Winry moved closer and bent to look at the front of the engine block.
“Betcha it’s something with the radiator,” she mused. “This is steam, not smoke, and these thermosiphon systems really only overheat when something goes wonky with the radiator.”
“Thermosiphon system?” Hawkeye repeated blankly.
“Sorry,” Winry laughed. “That’s the type of cooling system it’s got. You know, to get rid of the waste heat from the engine operation. See, this is the radiator,” she explained, pointing at the flat-ish thing at the front of the engine compartment. “It’s got coolant in it, usually water, although I hear they’re coming up with some new formulas that that are supposed to be much more efficient than just plain old water. Anyway, it’s connected to the cylinder block here and here,” she pointed again, and then continued to trace the route in the air above the various parts with one finger as she spoke. “The coolant absorbs heat from engine, and as the hot water rises, it goes to the radiator through this hose, where it’s cooled down (see the fan through here?) And then the cooler water sinks, down to here, and cycles around back to the cylinder block again through this hose.”
“I…I see,” Hawkeye said hesitantly, eyes flicking between the radiator and the engine block. “Then, what sort of damage would cause the engine to steam in such a way?”
“Well, these systems are sensitive to low coolant levels, which means that losing just a little of the coolant will stop the circulation, which would cause the engine to overheat. If it’s running with the spark lever too retarded or too far advanced, see, then that wastes energy, so the engine has to work harder…”
Poking and prodding at the radiator and its various connections all the while, Winry prattled on about radiator fins and tubes, fan belt tension, and the possibility of cracked engine blocks or blown head gaskets until Hawkeye was entirely lost.
In spite of her confusion, though, Hawkeye was glad to see the girl’s initial nervousness fall away more and more with each passing minute. Winry was clearly in her element here, confident and competent, and cheerfully comfortable with all the complex mechanical functions she was trying to explain.
Hawkeye remembered that Edward sometimes referred to his young mechanic as a “crazy gearhead.” She was beginning to understand where he was coming from.
Finally, the girl said something that even a layman could grasp.
“Anyway, once it all cools down a bit, we’ll be able to add more water to the radiator, and that should buy you enough time to get it in to Mr. Mustang’s usual mechanic,” Winry said.
“That’s certainly a relief,” Hawkeye said. “I was beginning to be afraid that I’d have to call in a favor or two to have someone tow it for me. Thank you very much for your assistance, Miss Rockbell.”
“Oh, sure! Happy to help out,” Winry replied, flushing in pleasure. “And please, call me Winry. I, um, I saw a garage back that way,” she added, gesturing back over her shoulder. “I’m sure they’ll have some kind of container we can borrow for the water.”
“I’m not keeping you from anything, am I?” Hawkeye asked. She wouldn’t mind the company, but she felt slightly guilty about dragging the poor girl along on such a dull errand.
“No, not at all! I have no place to be right now,” Winry assured her. “Actually, I was looking around for something to do. I got in earlier than I planned, you see. Ed and Al have aren’t expecting me until later this afternoon, and so they’ve wandered off somewhere – I just came from their hotel,” she explained.
As she spoke, the two set off in the direction of the garage that Winry had mentioned.
“They were planning to meet you at the train station, correct?” Hawkeye asked.
“Yes,” Winry grumbled. “It’s not like I couldn’t find my way to the hotel by myself, but those two overprotective idiots insisted on coming to pick me up.” Hawkeye hid a smile. From the fond look on her face, it was clear that Winry didn’t really mind the ‘overprotective idiots’ worrying over her. “I guess I wouldn’t have minded a hand carrying my bags, though,” Winry admitted.
“Did you check your luggage at the station?” Hawkeye asked. Once they got the car running again, she fully intended on driving the girl safely back to her hotel. She wouldn’t mind making a stop along the way.
“Oh no, I just dragged my bags on over to the hotel and had them hold ‘em for me at the front desk, since my room wasn’t quite ready yet,” Winry was explaining. “I figured I’d wander a bit, and then circle back to the train station at our original meeting time if I didn’t run into Ed and Al along the way.”
“Well, it’s very lucky for me that you happened to arrive earlier than you planned,” Hawkeye said.
Winry beamed at her, and the two walked in silence for a few moments.
“I…I’m actually really glad I ran into you, today,” Winry ventured, timidly. “I was hoping I’d be able to meet you at some point while I was here…there’s something I want to talk to you about.”
Lieutenant Hawkeye inclined her head toward her companion to show that she was listening. Winry’s eyes were fixed firmly on her feet, and she twisted a loose strand of hair around nervous fingers.
“Is everything all right?” Hawkeye prompted gently.
“No. I mean yes! It’s just that I...well, Al phoned me last week, to find out which train I was taking and all that? And we got to talking about the work he and Ed have been doing since I saw them last.”
“Oh?” Hawkeye thought she knew where this was going. If she worried about those boys constantly, she could only imagine how their childhood friend felt about all the dangerous things they got up to.
“He—you see, he was telling me about the people they work with – that is, you and Lieutenant Havoc and the others, and he – well, he let something slip that I don’t think Ed would’ve wanted me to know,” Winry stammered. “And…gosh, this is harder than I thought,” she murmured the last part mostly to herself.
Hawkeye hummed sympathetically.
“I know it’s difficult to think about some of the jobs those two are being assigned, but I promise you Colonel Mustang would never send them to investigate anything he wasn’t certain they could handle.”
“Oh!” Winry looked up, startled. “No, I know that. I mean, I don’t much like it, but they knew what they were signing up for, and – well, that’s beside the point. Actually, I’m trying to thank you.”
“Thank me?” Hawkeye echoed, with some surprise.
“Yeah,” Winry was faintly flushed, now. “Al told me about how you saved Ed’s life a few months back. When he fell in the river?”*
“Ah,” Hawkeye breathed.
She slowed to a halt as the memory of that day washed over her: the icy grip of the water, numb fingers scrabbling for purchase on a bright red coat, the deadweight of the unconscious boy and the desperate burning in her chest, the bitter certainty that they were both going to drown. And then the blood…her blood, dripping down onto Edward’s pale face as she bent over him and forced air into his lungs. The creeping fear that maybe she’d been too late after all. The utter stillness of his small body, just before he’d finally choked and started coughing up water.
Hawkeye shivered and mastered herself with an effort.
“There’s really no need to thank me for that,” she said softly. “I’d have done the same for any of my comrades, as they would’ve done for me. I’m just glad I happened to be there in time to help.”
“But I do have to thank you,” the younger girl said, in a small and miserable voice. “Since it’s really my fault that Ed needed help in the first place.”
“How so?” Hawkeye said, surprised.
“I’m the one who made his automail!” Winry burst out. Her pretty face crumpled, fear and guilt twisting her lips and furrowing her brow. “Al said that…that Ed sank, right to the bottom, because wasn’t able to swim on his own with the extra weight! And that’s my fault! He almost drowned because of me!”
“No,” Hawkeye interrupted sharply, placing her hand on the younger girl’s shoulder. “No, Winry. Edward is able to stand and walk and run because of you. He’s able to write with his dominant hand, and…and braid his own hair, and do up his own buttons, and cut his meat without assistance. He wouldn’t be able to do any of those things on his own if it wasn’t for you. You know that, don’t you?”
The teenager’s tears finally spilled over.
“I...I don’t...that’s not…”
“That is what’s important,” Hawkeye insisted. “He might not remember to actually tell you so, but Edward is extremely proud of your work. He brags about his automail mechanic every time someone comments on his prosthetic limbs.”
Even in the middle of fights, if the reports were accurate, she thought wryly.
“But they’re not anything special,” Winry sniffled. “I still have so much to learn, and at first they were too weak and parts kept breaking, and I tried to reinforce some of the components, but then they’re already so heavy!” she wailed, tears running unchecked down both cheeks. “And…and I’m afraid that they hurt him much more than he lets on,” she whispered.
Hawkeye sighed.
Edward complained loudly and often about any number of things – the Colonel, the crappy food in the mess hall, the hard couches in the military dorms, the Colonel, Havoc’s ‘dirty cigarette-smoking’ habit, that one ‘creepy’ captain who was always staring at Al’s armor in awe, the Colonel…but he never said a single word about being in pain.
No, when he was hurting, he went quiet. He’d rub absently at his thigh, or carefully rotate his shoulder in a tight, awkward circle. But he never talked about the bone-deep ache in his muscles, or the sharp twinges of his damaged nerves, or the heavy pull of cold, hard metal on soft human flesh. Never once.
“That boy…” she murmured. “Edward is tough, and very brave, but do I wish he’d let the rest of us help him bear his burdens, just a little.” As she spoke, she fished a handkerchief from her coat pocket and offered it to Winry. “But he insists on standing on his own two feet. Which he can only do because of you.”
“But, still…” Winry protested half-heartedly. She took the handkerchief gratefully and began dabbing at her eyes.
“His automail is not to blame for his accident,” Hawkeye said, gentle but firm. “Even people with all four natural limbs intact can drown, you know. None of us are guaranteed safety.”
“I…I guess I never thought of it that way,” Winry mumbled. “Even so…thank you. For saving him.”
“I would gladly do it again. Without hesitation,” Hawkeye replied. The steely note in her voice surprised Winry, and she looked up in time to see a look of cold, hard resolve on the older woman’s face. “He’s a good kid, and he’s a member of my team,” Hawkeye said. “If ever I can help him or protect him in any way, then I will.”
“I’m glad,” Winry managed in a choked voice. “That idiot needs all the help he can get.”
By unspoken agreement, the two of them slowly started walking again. Hawkeye watched Winry carefully from the corner of her eye, hesitant to say anything that might embarrass the younger girl or make her ashamed of her tears. Winry wasn’t exactly a fragile blossom, but Hawkeye still remembered being that age. She knew all too well how a thoughtless or dismissive comment could cut straight to the bone. And so, before the silence between them could grow uncomfortable, she turned to the younger girl with a soft, fond smile.
“I don’t know whether Alphonse thought to tell you, when you spoke,” she said. “But he and Edward brought me a thank-you gift once I was released from the hospital.”
“Once you were released?” Winry echoed, her blue eyes wide with alarm. “Al didn’t say that you were hurt, too!”
Ah. Whoops. No need to mention the little head wound that Edward had dealt her accidentally.
“Oh, it was nothing serious. Just a routine exam,” Hawkeye said as nonchalantly as she could. “They wanted us both looked at once it was all over, since the river’s so cold that time of year. And Edward had some minor scrapes and bruises from the fight that got him knocked into the water to begin with, so we thought it best to have a doctor check him over, to be safe.”
His injuries had been fairly minor, Hawkeye reasoned. Aside from the cracked ribs. Better not to mention just how long he’d been underwater, or that he’d needed to be resuscitated once they’d fished him out...hence the cracked ribs. Alphonse was a sensible boy; he’d probably left that bit out for a reason, and it certainly wasn’t her place to reveal just how close a call Edward had actually had.
From the way Winry’s shoulders immediately sagged in relief, Hawkeye knew she’d made the right decision.
“So, what did Ed get you?” Winry asked. “Flowers? Candy? Or maybe…jewelry?”
“No, you’ll never guess,” Hawkeye laughed lightly. “Premium-grade gun oil, for cleaning my weapons.”
Edward had been so adorably awkward, too, nervously rubbing the back of his neck and shifting his feet, like any other teenage boy working up the courage to express feelings. He’d begged her forgiveness and offered his earnest gratitude in the same breath, golden eyes dark with sorrow and guilt. Hawkeye had been seriously tempted to hug him, dignity be damned, but then he’d thrust the carefully wrapped package into her hands and mumbled something about not knowing what sort of bouquet you were supposed to get someone who’d saved your life. Her obvious delight upon opening the gift had chased the lingering shadows from Edward’s eyes – he’d reverted right back to embarrassed teenager, flushing faintly and trying to hide a small pleased grin.
Winry huffed out a little laugh.
“Something that lasts, then,” she noted. “That’s good. I mean, flowers are nice and all, but they die so fast! Seems like such a waste, don’t you think?”
“Has he ever brought you flowers?” Hawkeye asked, suddenly curious.
“Ed? No way,” Winry scoffed. “Al has, though. He used to pick wildflowers for me and Granny all the time. You know, before. But…Ed has started bringing me presents, whenever he comes home for repairs,” she confessed.
“Oh?” Hawkeye said, carefully hiding her amusement. Winry brushed aside the loose strands of her long blonde hair to show off her earring collection.
“Very nice. I see Alphonse picked them out, judging from the lack of skulls and spikes,” Hawkeye observed. Winry burst out giggling.
“Ed has the worst taste, doesn’t he?”
“At least he hasn’t decided to pierce his own ears,” Hawkeye replied dryly. “Never mind the gaudy ornaments he’d wear; think of the inevitable ‘Full Metal’ puns we’d all have to endure.”
Winry was still giggling hysterically when they reached the garage.
Once the requisite explanations and negotiations were complete, an obliging young man drove the two of them back to the Colonel’s car. Hawkeye noted the heavy flirtation on the young man’s part as well as Winry’s complete obliviousness to the same, and quickly decided that the Elric brothers had plenty of cause to worry about their friend wandering around East City on her own.
Overprotective, hah! If the Elrics were still living at home, they’d no doubt be kept busy chasing hopeful suitors away from their neighbor’s door. Fortunately she had a formidable grandmother to watch over her, Hawkeye reflected.
On arrival, Winry promptly (and innocently) deflated the young man’s ego by waving aside his offer of help and dealing with the radiator herself. The poor boy’s face fell, but he brightened a bit when Hawkeye sent him on his way with a generous tip (which she was definitely putting on Colonel Mustang’s tab.)
Hawkeye found herself loathe to lose her new companion. And if she wasn’t mistaken, Winry wasn’t exactly keen to leave her, either.
“I suppose you have to head back to work,” Winry said, staring down at the radiator with a slight pout.
“In a bit,” Hawkeye admitted. “But I was actually on my way home to pick up my puppy before the car started acting up.”
“You have a puppy?” Winry exclaimed, delighted.
“Yes, Black Hayate,” Hawkeye smiled. “I usually bring him in to work with me, but we had four different meetings this morning and I didn’t like to leave him all alone in the office so long. I promised Colonel Mustang I’d bring back lunch in exchange for the use of the car to go and fetch him. Seems I’d have been better off taking the bus after all,” she reflected with a wry smile.
“I’m glad you didn’t,” Winry said. And then flushed bright pink as she realized how that had sounded. “I mean –! Um, it’s not that I’m happy that the Colonel’s car broke down, or anything! It’s just, I wouldn’t have met you otherwise, and…” she trailed off, still blushing, when she realized that Hawkeye was smiling at her with warmth and kindness in her eyes.
“I knew what you meant,” she said simply. “Would you like to come along with me? If they weren’t at their hotel, Edward and Alphonse may very well be back at HQ, and I’ll only be a minute picking up Hayate on the way.”
“Oh! I - Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?” Winry asked, trying not to sound too eager. She betrayed herself by taking a hesitant step closer.
“It’s the least I could do, after all your help,” Hawkeye said, gesturing at the car. “Besides, I rather think Colonel Mustang owes the both of us lunch for dealing with his faulty radiator, don’t you?”
“If you’re sure I’m not imposing,” Winry wavered.
“On the contrary,” Hawkeye insisted, gently steering her toward the passenger seat. “I’m enjoying your company.”
Black Hayate was, of course, delighted to see his mistress. Suitably bribed by one of his peanut butter treats, he even suffered himself to be cuddled by the unfamiliar teenager. She wasn’t pack, but his mistress seemed to like her, and her clothing smelled faintly of a contented older animal, so he decided that she was probably all right. And as Hawkeye had hoped, Winry forgot all about near-drownings and her own unfounded guilt when faced with the silky-soft ears and cold wet nose of an excitable puppy.
They ate at a little café around the corner from Lieutenant Hawkeye’s apartment building, swapping amusing anecdotes about their dogs and about the Elric brothers over sandwiches and tall glasses of iced tea. It was pleasantly cool beneath the wide green umbrellas arranged over the outdoor tables, and Hayate dozed with his head resting on Winry’s foot.
If Colonel Mustang was surprised to see his Lieutenant walk into the office with a teenage girl in tow, he hid it well.
He did raise an eyebrow when he noticed that the girl was carrying Black Hayate like a stuffed animal. The pup wasn’t overly fond of strangers, and usually wriggled free if anyone but Hawkeye or Fuery tried to hold him.
But before he could make the pithy comment that Hawkeye could read on his face, Mustang was all but shoved out of the way by a red and gold blur.
“Winry!” Ed cried, echoed by his little brother (who approached at a marginally more sedate pace). “What are you doing here– you don’t get in for hours!”
“You should have told us you changed your train!” Al was saying behind him. “We would have come to meet you!”
Winry laughed at them both and quickly released Hayate so that she could drag each brother into a hug. As she launched into her explanation, Hawkeye crossed the room to stand beside her commanding officer, and Black Hayate trotted over to greet Havoc and Fuery, who were watching the scene unfold with barely contained amusement.
“I see you’ve picked up another stray,” Mustang murmured, loud enough only for Hawkeye to hear. “Is that what took you so long? I was beginning to think I’d have to brave the mess hall after all today.” Hawkeye glared at him as she handed over the takeout bag containing his lunch.
“You’ve only yourself to blame. It was your vehicle that caused my delay. If it weren’t for Miss Rockbell’s timely arrival, I’d still be on the phone begging for someone to come out and help me fix your busted radiator. Which you’ll still need to have taken care of, by the way.”
“Wait, what?”
Meanwhile, Winry had finished telling the Elrics about the early train, her stop by the hotel, and her fortuitous encounter with Lieutenant Hawkeye and the broken-down car.
“Well, it’s good that you ran into her,” Ed was saying, glancing over his shoulder at the woman in question. “You shouldn’t be wandering around the city by yourself. What if you’d gotten lost, huh? You could’ve ended up down by the shady-ass warehouse district where the hoodlums hang out, or gotten yourself kidnapped or something!”
“Geez, Ed, I’m not an idiot! Unlike some people, I don’t have a problem stopping to ask for directions when I need them – and I know how to tell a sleaze-ball from a law-abiding citizen, for heaven’s sake!”
“Well, it’s still not safe!” Ed growled, looking mutinous.
Winry bristled, but before she could whack him upside the head or yell louder, Al spoke up.
“We know you can take care of yourself, Winry,” he said soothingly. “But not everyone here is as friendly as they are back home. And certain parts of town can be pretty dangerous, even for adults. We’re only worried about you.”
Winry deflated and gave Al’s vambrace an affectionate little pat.
“I know. But see? You didn’t need to worry at all; I was totally fine by myself!”
“Yeah, only thanks to Lieutenant Hawkeye,” Ed mumbled, looking over at her again. By this point in Hawkeye’s side of the story, Mustang was looking sheepish and Hawkeye slightly prim. Ed’s scowl softened into a warm smile.
“I can see why you guys like her so much,” Winry said quietly, following his gaze.
“Yeah,” Ed replied, still smiling. “She might be a little scary sometimes, but she’s a decent person.” On Winry’s other side, Al was nodding fervently.
“Scary?” repeated Winry, looking bewildered.
Ed snorted, and his soft expression from just a moment before slid into a smirk. “You haven’t seen her in action, Win. She’s unbelievable; you have no idea.”
“It’s not like it sounds, Winry, she’s only scary when she wants to be,” Al interjected. “Lieutenant Hawkeye is really very kind, and she’s always been good to us.”
“Yeah, even when Colonel Bastard’s being an ass,” Ed grumbled. “Mustang’s damn lucky to have her for an aide. He sure as hell doesn’t deserve her, I can tell you that much.”
“Finally, something we can both agree on, Fullmetal,” Mustang said, directly behind him. Ed flinched violently and Winry gasped. Al, who had seen him coming a moment too late to give warning, shook with silent laughter.
“Geez, Colonel, do you have to creep up on me like that?!” Ed growled. Mustang smirked at him.
“Yes. It teaches you situational awareness,” he retorted. Behind him, Hawkeye rolled her eyes. Winry tried very hard not to giggle. “Now go on, scram. Since your mechanic has arrived safely, you have no more excuses to be loitering in my office and distracting my men.”
“Distract—they’re playing poker!” Ed snarled, indignant.
Havoc and Fuery looked up with exaggerated innocence, their cards having been swept unceremoniously out of sight the moment the Lieutenant had entered the office. Hawkeye simply turned and gave them a Look.
“They’ve been playing poker since before we even got here,” Ed insisted. “And YOU said it was a slow day anyway and that you had nothing pressing to work on, you self-righteous, arrogant, hypocritical –!”
“Miss Rockbell, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” Mustang cut across him smoothly, taking Winry’s hand and dialing up the charm. “I’m very grateful to you for the invaluable assistance you rendered to my Lieutenant,” he said earnestly, holding her hand gently in both of his and looking her directly in the eye. “She said I would need to ask my mechanic about some sort of leak in the radiator, is that correct?”
Winry, overawed and blushing furiously, could only nod. Ed and Al were both frozen in horrified silence.
“Colonel.” Hawkeye’s tone was perfectly calm and professional, but the sharp warning in it was clear to every male in the room. Two of them winced, two of them cast her grateful and mildly relieved smiles, and one merely smirked. (Although he did immediately do as he was told.)
“Ahem,” Mustang coughed lightly and relinquished Winry’s hand. “As I was saying, Edward, consider yourself on medical leave until you’ve had the necessary maintenance done on your automail,” he went on magnanimously. Ed bared his teeth at him, and Mustang’s smile grew. “Miss Rockbell, thank you again for your help. I hope you enjoy the remainder of your visit.”
“Um, thank you?” Winry managed, still slightly flushed. Ed and Al immediately began dragging her towards the door, but she shook them off with an impatient gesture and dashed over to Lieutenant Hawkeye. Five pairs of eyes went wide when she threw her arms around the older woman and squeezed her in a tight hug.
“Thank you again, Ms. Hawkeye. For everything,” she whispered earnestly. Hawkeye smiled beatifically and returned the enthusiastic embrace.
“You’re very welcome,” she replied. “Take care, Winry.”
Ed looked between the two women, golden eyes narrowing in suspicion.
“What –?”
“Never you mind, Ed,” Winry replied, turning brisk and businesslike at once. “It’s between us girls and it’s none of your business!” And with that, she turned on her heel and marched out the door. Ed spluttered indignantly and darted out after her. Al sighed, bowed quickly in farewell, and trotted after them. As the sound of their bickering slowly drifted away down the hall, Colonel Mustang raised his eyebrows at his First Lieutenant.
“So? What was all that about?”
“Never you mind, sir,” she replied serenely. “It’s between us girls, and it’s none of your business.”