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01 September 2010 @ 01:09 am
Fic: Finding Sunshine After Rain (ch 3)  
Can you tell I have a fetish for 1920's clothes? I think Ed does, too.

Title: Finding Sunshine After Rain
Rating: PG-13 for now, but will be R in later chapters
Pairing: Edwin
Series: Anime 1, oddly enough. But there will be a few shout-outs to Brotherhood
Summary: In order to get revenge on the FullMetal Alchemist, someone sends Winry over to the other side of the gate and forces her to act like another Earth-lookalike of herself, but there's more at stake than just a broken heart...
chapter 1 chapter 2

Ed flipped through the paper, pausing at a certain article shoved in the corner of the business section. “One of the factories by the river was arsoned, and some German workers have taken responsibility.”

“Why would they bother to do that?” asked Al, glancing over his mug of tea.

Ed passed him the paper. “You haven’t heard? These strikes are starting to pop up all over the place. There’s a minimum wage set by the state, but factory owners are paying more to English workers rather than German ones.”

“You’d think that if they wanted to save money, they’d hire only Germans.”

“Well, it didn’t say that they hired many English, just that they can get away with paying English workers more money than German workers for the same job, and none of the Germans can do a damn thing about it.”

Madame slid Ed another beer. “All these strikes aren’t good for the community. GermanTown’s been a lot less active these days.” She took a sad look around her bar, where some seats that were usually filled were left empty. “A lot of people don’t want to risk trouble and be seen at a Pro-German place.”

Ed rolled his eyes and went back to his drink as Madame went up to go check on her girls. What was the point of trying to hide you were German if you lived in GermanTown anyway?

The East End was a pool of immigrants from all over the world, and all took their turn at being the “cause of all of Britain’s problems”—Irish, Chinese, French—But Germans had a special hatred in Londoners’ hearts. Though there was a point where “war does that to you” wasn’t a valid excuse anymore. Half the strikes weren’t even from German workers, yet it was Germany to blame all the same.

It was all too easy for them to blame everything on the “bloodthirsty, warmongering Huns of the orient” than actually look for the cause of the problem.

He was starting to wonder if there was any place on Earth he could live in peace. Germany was too unsettling—it reminded him too much of pre-war Amestris. And in France and Britain, he had new insight into how all the other peoples of his world felt once Amestris started conquering everything.

He supposed they could go to America, but it wasn’t much better for Germans there, either. Plus America had all this trouble with gangs and outlaws since that whole Prohibition bullshit.

And maybe he liked his alcohol.

Though at least in America there wasn’t the problem with—

“How many of those have you had?” came a disapproving voice as Ed jumped, spilling beer on his shirt.


“Not that many!” he slammed the mug down, spilling more as he grabbed for a napkin.

Wendy raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh.”

“I am not drunk!” He yelled, furiously trying to mop up the mess.

And just because everyone loved to torture him, Alphonse piped up, “Yeah, we’ll you have to work tomorrow, don’t you? Bright and early?”

So?” snapped Ed, as Wendy grabbed for his mug. “Hey!”

“You know Madame doesn’t water it down like most people,” she rolled her eyes, dumping the rest in the sink behind the bar. “Better for her other business. You’ll wake up with a hangover tomorrow if I don’t cut you off.”

“Listen, you,” glared Ed, “I don’t know who you think you are, but—”

Wendy rolled her eyes. “Madame told me that you come here practically every day to drown your sorrows and Alphonse told me you’ve had to go and teach with a hangover several times just in the past month! It’s for your own good.”

Wendy went in the back, while Ed glared at his little brother. “Well, it’s true,” Alphonse shrugged. “You do drink a lot.”

“I do not.” Ed muttered back.

Though maybe there was some truth in what Wendy had said. No, it wasn’t like he had a drinking problem, (as far as he was concerned, it wasn’t a problem if he could live with it) but…beer was good.

Whenever he thought too much about Amestris or Resembool or her it helped.

And it most certainly helped whenever Wendy was hanging around.

Honestly, he would have been a little annoyed if Madame or Al had put him through this, but the fact that it was Wendy made it infuriating.

Because he was trying very hard not to think about how she would have reacted if she found out—and her reaction probably would have been the same.

Wendy came out from the back, carrying a mug of something hot. Ed knew what it was the instant he smelled that bitter aroma—that British tea shit.

“There, that’ll help sober you up,” Wendy said, hands on her hips. “I know you don’t like it, but I put some sugar in it so it’ll taste better.”

“Whatever.” Ed reached for the mug, but Wendy gave a little cough and a glare. “What?” When she only glared harder, he cringed and muttered, “Danke, Fräulien Wendy.”

“Much better,” she smirked, and turned to leave as Ed put the mug to his lips.

Alphonse suddenly piped up, “You didn’t put any milk in it?”

Wendy froze.

Ed even looked surprised as he sipped the tea, “He’s right. Just sugar in it. How’d you know I don't like milk?”

It was only a moment Wendy stood there, before turning back and saying quickly, “Madame mentioned it.”

“She did?” Al continued to look at Wendy funny.

Fortunately, the awkward moment only lasted a little while longer as Madame came up to them. “We’ve got some bad news. Looks like Gretchen caught something—”

Caught something?” Ed sputtered into his tea; face a mixture of embarrassment and disgust.

“A cold, you naughty boy,” Madame glared. “Anyway, we’ve run out of sugar to make our apple strudel, and Gretchen was the girl I always send out to get it. Wendy, can you go out and get sugar tomorrow before we open?”

“I could, but I don’t know where to go—”

“That’s all right,” Madame said with a grin on her face. “Ed can show you around the East End. After he gets off work, of course.”

What?” More tea was sputtered everywhere.

Wendy glared and waved her rag in his face. “Honestly can you go one night without doing that?”

“But—did you hear what she just—?”

Grinning, Alphonse added, “I think it’s a good idea. Wendy needs to learn about London, and you’ve been around the East End more than I have.”

Al!” Ed glared. He thought his brother understood why this was a bad idea!

By that grin on Madame’s face, she knew she had him. “Come on, boy, you wouldn’t deny helping out dear old Madame, would you? I’ve got a bar to run, you know.”

“Yeah right! You don’t run a bar, you run a—!”

“Ed, will you give it a rest!” Wendy sighed, exasperated. “Can’t you just agree so we can get this over with?”

“Why should I—?”

And then Wendy gave him a look. It was a look he remembered from years ago—one that still made his blood run cold at the sight of it. One that said very plainly “If you don’t shut up I will take a wrench and brain you with it!

Damn, she had that look down even if she really wasn’t Winry. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she was hiding a wrench under that floofy green skirt at this point.

And then came the mental image of Winry having a wrench strapped in a holster at her thigh, and there were…other problems that came along with that image.

“Okay, fine!” he growled, turning quickly back to his tea so hopefully they won’t notice the blush. “Decide my life for you, then.”

“We’re only doing what’s best for you, dear.” Madame chuckled and left, but Wendy stayed put.

Ed noticed.

What?” he glared. The more time he was forced around this Winry-lookalike, the worse it would turn out.

Though she had noticed his bad mood. “Ed…”

“Gonna force me into something else I don’t wanna do?” he glared back, and though he felt a little guilty seeing the abashed look on her face, he didn’t back down.

She was a fake.

She was a fake!

She didn’t have the right to make his life miserable.

“Well, fine!” she snapped, turning abruptly to hide the newly-appeared tears in her eyes. “See if I remember to hold the milk next time you order tea!” And then she stormed off.

No sooner had she walked off than someone smacked Ed on the back of the head. “Ow! Hey! Al!”

“That was mean, Brother,” Alphonse glared.

“Yeah, well, you saw what they were doing. Madame’s trying to turn me into some sort of free labor and that Wendy just went along with it!”

“She only went along with it because Madame’s her boss and told her what to do. Besides, you know that she doesn’t know a thing about London. It would be good if you gave her a look around.”

Ed couldn’t stand that disapproving look his little brother was giving him. He turned back to stare into his tea. “But I don’t want to be around her,” he muttered so softly that Alphonse almost didn’t hear him.

“I know,” Al sighed. “I know she’s not Winry, but that’s not her fault. Stop taking it out on her.”

Ed didn’t respond. But he knew his brother was right.

He was just too afraid to admit that being mean and staying away was the only way to keep himself from confusing Wendy with Winry.

“Alright, I’m here,” Ed growled as he pushed the door open into the bar. “You ready yet—”

He stopped as he noticed her standing right there, as if she had been waiting for him. “You…er…”

She was also wearing something other than the low cut blouse and that floofy skirt. It was just like what most Londoners wore these days, with a straight blue skirt just below the knee, with a tunic-like blue sweater over top. She wore one of those white cloche hats that were so popular these days, though her hair was still down and long past her shoulders.

She noticed him staring. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly. He should have figured she would have other clothes than her work ones.

She sighed, rolling her eyes. “Let’s get this over with, then.”

To be honest, it was nice to get out of Madame’s bar and see the city for once. Winry didn’t get to see much of it that first night she found her way to Madame’s, but from what she heard about it, the city was supposed to be even bigger than Central.

As they walked out of GermanTown and into the main part of the East End, was willing to bet that even if London wasn’t bigger than Central, it was at least as big as it.

Though as she looked around with eyes wide in wonder, Ed was doing a good job of trying not to look at her. “Over down that way’s Chinatown. British like them as well as they like us, if that movie that came out last year is any indication.”

“Movie?” She had heard about something like that back in Amestris. Back when she and Ed were young…one time during the annual sheep festival, a man came from Central to advertise his new investment. He set up a screen in one of the pastures and brought a long a projector. There he played what he called a “movie”—moving black and white pictures that told a story, this time apparently about men lost in a desert—and he said they would replace all the playhouses across the country soon enough. It was about ten years since then and there were a few movie theaters in Central, but Winry never had the time to go to any of them.

But if they had them over on this side, too…

“What, you’ve never been?” Ed looked at her now. “There’s one theater on the edge of the East End. Course they’ve all been titled in English, but they’re still fun. Al and I went to go see The Black Pirate a few months ago, but I had to translate for him some of the bigger words—if he would just study once in a while, he’d be fluent…”

“If it’s in English, guess I can’t go, then. I wouldn’t understand anything.” Besides, even though movies sounded interesting, it’s not like she’d ever have the time, what with working and all…

“I could—” Ed said automatically, then stopped himself. Winry looked at him curiously, but he seemed to be reminding himself of something. “I guess you’re right,” he added quickly, and they continued on in silence.

Though it made Winry a little happier knowing that Ed had (well, sort of) offered to take her to a movie.

Another block later, and past some tall tenant buildings, Winry noticed a few rough men in work clothes glaring at them. “Why are they…?”

“Because they know we’re German,” Ed rolled his eyes. “The British workers around here especially don’t like us because of all the strikes that have been going on.”

“So it really is that bad.” She hoped Ed didn’t notice how she was walking closer to him—After that whole thing with Smith in Central, it kind of felt a bit safer having someone else walking next to her.

That and she had lost her wrench.

“Not usually.” Ed continued to stare ahead, not giving the workers the satisfaction of his notice. “It’s just all the strikes have got everyone riled up. Once it’s sorted out everything will die down and they’ll go back to pretending we don’t exist.”

There was silence for a moment as Winry glanced at the hard expression on Ed’s face. He said the other day he had been dealing with this sort of thing for three years and had gotten used to it. Three whole years with everyone putting him down just because of how he looked…and with those two years before, he had been stuck in this world for five.

Five whole years stuck in a world that wasn’t his own…she was surprised he dealt with it as well as he did.

“But there are a few places that don’t mind Germans,” Ed quickly added, noticing the sad look on her face. “Besides Madame’s, I mean. There’s a few dance halls—”

Dance Halls?” she couldn’t help the amused grin. The idea of Ed dancing was hilarious.

“Well, it’s not like I’ve ever been!” he was quick to counter. “But they’re there if you want to go, anyway. They’ve got all those new dances they’re importing from America…”

“I’ve never really been to one of those, either.”

“Not even back in Germany?” he gave her a confused look. “Dance halls are pretty damn popular everywhere.”

“Nope. Not even in ‘Germany’.” Not like she really wanted to spend her free time back in Amestris dancing with other boys when she wasn’t interested…Besides, dancing wasn’t her thing.

Though if Ed offered to take her to one of those, she might have to go to see if she could get him to dance.

They walked down a busy street, with people passing by them, speaking very fast in Italian. They were coming close to the market district. Soon they could get the sugar and go home.

Though Winry hoped this excursion would last a little longer. She could tell Ed was a bit uncomfortable (she didn’t blame him; in his situation, she would feel the same) though she couldn’t help it. After not seeing him for five years, even a few more minutes in his presence when he wasn’t drunk and bad-tempered was worth it.

The night before she had a dream. She and Ed were back in Amestris, back in Resembool. All they did was sit on a hill and look out over the endless fields below them, but they sat together, leaning against each other, holding hands.

What she would have given to have that scene be real.

She had to remind herself that she had gotten what she wished, in a way. She wanted to see Ed. And she did. After five years, she finally saw him again.

But this situation was killing both of them. She wasn’t stupid; she knew Ed loved her. But only as ‘Winry’—‘Wendy’ was just a shadow of a girl he used to know. And every time she saw that emotion in Ed’s eyes as he looked at her; that sadness, it was everything she could do not to burst out who she really was.

But she didn’t want to test whether or not Smith would keep his word. He could do alchemy while Ed couldn’t, and already proven he could watch her if he wanted to. Sometimes walking around the bar alone after closing, she swore she felt someone watching her, but she never saw anyone there.

Ed’s life was more important than her suffering. But when it concerned his suffering…

“Are you all right?” He noticed the look on her face.

“Fine, just…remembering something,” she said quickly. Maybe that would get him to stop asking questions.

It didn’t. “Remembering Germany?”

“Maybe,” she looked away to see a Scandinavian woman dressed in shawls pulling a crying boy along the street.

“Do you have any family back there?” She turned back to him to see him looking at her with an almost concerned look on his face.

In ‘Germany’? “No. Not anymore.” Her only family was right here, beside her.

“I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter; they’ve been dead for a while.” Well, her parents were, at any rate. Her grandmother’s death was still too fresh for her to be able to talk about it.

Well, not to Ed while he thought she was a stranger, anyway.

There was a moment of silence before Ed added, “My family’s all dead, too. Besides Al, I mean.” He looked down at the cobblestones under their feet.

She tried hard not to sound surprised. “You’re whole family is dead?” But wasn’t his father somewhere in this world?

“My mom’s been dead a long time. My dad died three years ago. Everyone else is…gone.”

She couldn’t hide the look of surprise now. Three years…that would have been around the time he came back to Amestris. She had no idea. When he came back, was his father already dead? Or was it sometime later? Had he ever been able to make up with him? She hoped so, but…

He must have noticed that look. “It’s okay. My mom died when I was a kid and I was never close to my dad. I’ve still got Al.”

He was right. He still had Al. But she had no one.

No one but him and Al…if they ever found out who she was, anyway.

“Well now, what’s this? Is that Edward Elric with a girl?” came a chuckle.

Ed turned and glared at the policeman leaning against a building. “Bastard, it’s not like that!”

The police officer—who had black hair and equally black eyes, walked towards them, still grinning. “Dunno, you two looked pretty close. Are you sure it’s not like that?”

Now red in the face, Ed yelled, “Of course it’s not like that! And why do you care anyway?”

“Well, she’s very pretty, and if you don’t want her—”

“You already have a wife, damnit! Don’t even think of getting anywhere near her—!” Ed stopped when he noticed Wendy looking at both of them, confused.

It was a damn good thing she didn’t speak English.

With a sigh, knowing he had no other choice now, Ed said, “Sergeant Masten, this is Wendy. She doesn’t speak English.” Switching back to German he said, “Wendy, meet Sergeant Bastard.”

She glanced back at Ed. “You know an English policeman?”

“Not all English hate the Germans, you know,” the sergeant said in German. “And I happen to have a German mother.”

Ed gave a snort at that, but Winry didn’t get what was so funny.

“I’m surprised you can stand to be in his company, Fräulien. Edward Elric is known for his bad manners and worse temper.”

“They’re only bad because I don’t suck up to bastards like you—”

“I’m more surprised Ed’s friends with an officer,” said Winry. Back in Amestris, Ed only worked with the Military because he had to.

“We’re not friends—”

Sergeant Masten chuckled. “It’s an interesting story how I met him—”

“Then don’t tell her!”

“—As I’m sure you know by now, Fräulien, Edward Elric unfortunately has a very short temper. Shortly after he moved here he got himself involved in a bar fight.”

Winry couldn’t help the giggle. “I suppose someone called him ‘short’, then?”

That was supposed to make the sergeant laugh and Ed to launch into one of his infamous “I’m not short!” tirades. Instead, she got confused looks from both of them. A second later she realized her mistake—Ed was now several inches taller than her, and close to even the sergeant’s height. Actually, Ed was getting pretty tall back when she saw him three years ago, too. No one around here would even mistake him for short now that he’d finally hit a growth spurt.


“It was just a guess,” she quickly added. “Guys don’t like to be called short.”

“No, they don’t,” Ed muttered.

The sergeant continued on like he hadn’t even noticed the awkward pause. “No, it was actually because one of the patrons in the bar mentioned how the government in Germany was now rounding up the Roma. This man seemed to think it was the right idea. Though I’m told your friend here didn’t start beating the ever-living shit out of the man until he mentioned that he hoped the government would start exterminating them soon.”

Winry cast a glance at Ed, who crossed his arms and said, “Fucking bastard had it coming. Thinking it’s okay to kill a whole bunch of people…”

The sergeant shrugged. “True, but assault is still against the law. Fortunately I was there to smooth things over.”

“Yeah yeah, you’re a real livesaver,” Ed muttered, taking her gently by the arm. “Bye bye, Bastard, we have a lot of things left to do.”

“I’m sure you do,” the sergeant grinned. “And thanks for introducing me to your girl, Ed!”

Ed gave another grumble and shuffled Winry along. He noticed she still had that funny look on her face. “Got something to say?”

She only shook her head and gave a small smile. “I just didn’t realize you beat people up for good causes, too.”

“I only beat people up for good causes.”

Uh-huh. And the other night at Madame’s?”

He tried to hide the small blush. “That was a good cause.”

Well, she wasn’t supposed to like it when he beat people up, but she couldn’t help but smile a little bit.

And for a while, she had forgotten that she was supposed to be playing the part of ‘Wendy’—they were back to the way things used to be between them.

But it didn’t last for long.

“Oh, this is the Immigration Office—” Ed stopped as he pointed to it, getting an idea.

“Ed? What…?”

But she soon found out. “Wait a minute…if you don’t know what happened to you when you got here, then maybe you can find the answers in there!”

“What?” Warning bells went off in her head. “No, no it might not be. We don’t need to—”

“But they might be!” Why did he have to smile like that? “You could find out if you have any family here, and at the very least, what your last name is, right? You could find out who you’re really supposed to be!”

“Ed, wait!” he was nearly dragging her towards up the steps towards it. “Ed, stop! Listen, I won’t be in there, I’m—” She stopped herself. Well, what exactly? The only thing she could tell him was that she was an illegal, but that probably wasn’t the best thing to be yelling about right in front of the Immigration Office.

Even if it was true.

“It’s worth a try, right?”

The way he was smiling was killing her. On the one hand, he was doing this out of the goodness in his heart that was really sweet, but on the other hand, she couldn’t have him finding out she didn’t really exist here.

Besides all the trouble with Smith…she didn’t want to know what he would think once he realized she had lied to him.

Oh, and having immigration authorities try to ship her back to Germany would probably be bad, too.

“Ed.” She only now realized he had been holding her hand. Too bad she had to let go. She took a step above him on the steps to the office. “Listen. We don’t—we don’t have time to go here. Madame wants some sugar, and…”

It was then that she noticed the figure lurking in the shadows in the alleyway across from them. The figure that was glaring at her—a warning. A warning because she had almost allowed Ed to find out—That figure raised its hands.

“No, wait…I didn’t mean—!” she screamed.

Another voice neither recognized called out from above them in English, “Look out!”

There was a small pop that came from behind her, and that was when Ed moved. “Winry!” he cried, grabbing her just as the office behind them exploded.

They were thrown back into the street from the impact, with Winry hitting hard on the stones as Ed had shielded her. Pieces of glass and wood still continued to fall as smoke curled from the now-empty doorframe. People screamed and came running over as stars danced over Winry’s eyes. After a few seconds to recover, Winry looked up to ask, “Ed?”

He didn’t even groan in response. “Ed!”

His back was covered in blood and shrapnel. Blood was oozing from a lump on his forehead and more blood pooled at his lip. His golden eyes looked at her for a moment, relief flooding them, and then they fell shut.


Winry and Al sat in the waiting room of the hospital, both of them too worried to do anything but stare at the gleaming white tiled floor. Al had tried to calm her down at first, saying the nurses didn’t rush Ed in to an intensive care ward, but she couldn’t stop worrying all the same.

She knew it was her fault.

Smith had followed them, just like she thought. He was like a ghost—hidden, but always there, only showing himself when he felt like it. She knew it had only been a warning, and yet Ed had still gotten hurt.

And if she didn’t start watching her behavior, Ed might find out anyway. Would Smith kill him even then? She didn’t want to think about it.

The smart thing to do would be to leave and make sure she wasn’t around to get him hurt, but her heart ached just thinking about it. It was selfish, but she wanted to stay with him, even still.

If that made her a horrible person, then so be it.

All she knew was that Ed was in there, bleeding because of her.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, a nurse dressed in her crisp, white uniform came up to them. “You for Edward Elric?” Al nodded. “We were able to get all the shrapnel out and got him bandaged, but we gave him a sedative and we want to keep him overnight. He’ll be a little sore, but he should be fine to go in the morning.”

Al gave a sigh in relief, as Winry turned to him with a confused look. “Oh, sorry,” he quickly translated for her, causing the nurse to narrow her eyes and look a bit stiffer.

“There was one thing I wanted to ask about,” the nurse said, flipping through papers on her clipboard. “Edward Elric has some…interesting metal limbs.”

Al seemed to have an excuse already prepared, albeit in broken English. “In Germany…an accident during the war. Lost arm and leg. They are prototypes by German scientist, and there are no official patent. We can not talk about it. Please keep it quiet.”

“We have patient-doctor confidentiality,” the nurse sniffed and went away with a haughty look.

“Sure you do, but I’m sure it’ll be all the talk of the nurses’ lounge.” Al muttered back, “Come on, let’s go see him.”

“Did she do that because we’re German?” Winry asked, remembering how the nurse stiffened up once Al had to spoken to her in German.

“Probably,” Al pointed to a plaque hanging on the wall. “It commemorates when this hospital was bombed in the war. That’s why they were all freaking out when we first brought Ed in. They don’t like to hear about bombings here. It reminds them of the war.”

“Right.” She had noticed there had been a bit of panic once Al had told the doctors her story.

“Are you sure you didn't see who did it?"

“I said I didn’t see!” she snapped, perhaps a bit too forcefully. She had already been over that several times with Sergent Masten.

“Okay, okay…”

Ed was lying on a bed in a corner of the main ward. His hair had been let down from his ponytail and his shirt had been taken off in order to dress his wounds, but at least all the blood had been cleaned up. A bandage wrapped around his forehead like a headband, reminding Winry of a similar wound he had years and years ago…

There was a small chair by his bed, and Winry sat in it, staring at Ed’s face, feeling more guilty than ever.

She supposed even Al could tell how she felt. “My brother’s an idiot, but a noble idiot. He wouldn’t have forgiven himself if you had gotten hurt. It’s not like you told him to jump in front of you.”

“I know,” she said, but Al didn’t even know the half of it.

He probably noticed she still felt uncomfortable, and said, “Well, I’ll go see if we can get some food or something—it’s dinnertime and we’ve been here for hours,” he quickly turned and walked off. Though at the door to the ward, he paused and glanced back—she was now holding his brother’s hand and looking more  like a worried lover than a concerned friend.

Rolling his eyes, Al continued on, figuring his brother’s love life could wait until he was better.

As Winry held his hand, she felt his fingers flex slightly then relax. It was like he calmed down when she did it.

She couldn’t help but notice (and it was something she had omitted from her story) but when Ed ran for her…he had called her “Winry”.


Not Wendy.


In the heat of the moment, he had probably forgotten, but it was nice, hearing her real name from his lips.

“Win…ry…” he whispered softly in his sleep.

She couldn’t help it; and no one was around but the nurses anyway. Smiling slightly, she leaned over and kissed his forehead, her blonde hair tickling his cheeks. “Danke, Ed.”

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Current Mood: busybusy
Barking at the windevil_little_dog on September 1st, 2010 12:03 pm (UTC)
How very like Ed, leaping in to protect someone.

I don't remember if we met Marsten earlier, is he Mustang's clone?

There are a few typos, "You're" for "your" and missing punctuation. Still a very enjoyable story.
Kit: Alinulovinkit on September 1st, 2010 04:47 pm (UTC)
Nope, didn't meet the Mustang clone earlier. He was mentioned, though.

Augh, yeah, I was hurrying to finish and post this before I went to bed last night, I forgot to do my second edit. I'll get on that after class. D:

Thanks for reading!
Yuuki Hikari: Toddlers in the Snowyuukihikari on September 4th, 2010 04:45 am (UTC)
Poor Ed, Masten being bilingual means he'll be in Ed's business LOL.

Yeah, Winry, Immigration Office is not a place for you right now. Hopefully Ed's head wound lets him forget that idea.

Ed... you might have a drinking problem *pokes him*

I don't know why... but I love reading the word 'floofy'. It's like fluffy only better. It's such a fun word for describing things XD. */random*

Hope to read more soon ^^!
Kit: Edo-kuninulovinkit on September 4th, 2010 11:45 pm (UTC)
I could not have it any differently. XP

Well, there will be other things that will occupy Ed's mind coming soon enough. :P

I sincerely believe that CoS!Ed will have a drinking problem sometime in the future. A lot of shit's happened to the poor boy.

I like reading it too. Probably because its not actually a word. But it describes it so much better than fluffy since the skirts aren't actually fluffy, but they've got a few ruffles so they're...floofy.

Yuuki Hikari: Toddlers in the Snowyuukihikari on September 5th, 2010 01:22 am (UTC)
Oh ho ho 8D that poor occupied mind.

Yeah... come to think of it, CoS!Ed would probably have a drinking problem...

It is a good descriptive word. Skirts are neither poofy nor fluffy, so therefore they are floofy!
(Anonymous) on October 2nd, 2010 10:53 pm (UTC)
...Oh man. This is fairly excellent, but I realized one thing in particular...

...Mustang-clone. With a British accent. That's... kinda hot... and also hilarious...

Good story so far! Keep it up! :)
(Anonymous) on August 15th, 2015 06:57 am (UTC)
Thank you. Now it's 3 AM and I still need to finish this amazing fic