"She started it."
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist
Rating: G
Word Count: 286
Characters: Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, Winry Rockbell
Notes: Agh, I'm very rusty on my FMA and ficwriting - it's a rough short scene set after their first homecoming as state alchemists.
"She started it!"
Winry brandished something sharp and metallic in his direction and his brother ducked; not, said her snide look, that he particularly needed to. "I started it? Who was the one talking about motor oil in the soup and grease on the bread?"
"Brother..." Al tried, uncertainly.
"I only said -- you threw a wrench at my head!"
"It missed," she pointed out, miffed, and any retort that Ed might have made fell unspoken, stifled by the ominous look she directed towards the spare clenched at her hip. "Not that it really matters, because even if it'd hit, it wouldn't have struck anything of any great importance!"
"Are you calling me short?"
"Midget!" Evidently deciding that invective was falling short, she snatched up the nearest plate and hurled it; scatters of tiny green pods mashed against his hair as he crouched against the wall. "Bean-sized!"
At the last, his head popped indignantly over the surface of the table. "I am not," he roared, just as a glob of potato descended.
There was a splat.
Crumbs hung in his hair, crusted thickly in his lashes as he blinked severely, and finally managed to bite out a sentence. "I don't see why you're even making something like this!"
"Brother," Al glanced at him dubiously, making an extremely good impression of pursed lips with a mouth that only clanked.
"For you," she said, "you tiny idiot! You spend forever away from home, never even write and you think we wouldn't be glad when you came back?"
"...Ah," said Ed, with the suave eloquence that had won him the hearts of creditors everywhere.
"Motor oil," Winry snapped in disgust. She left him wiping mashed potato from his brow.
Rating: G
Word Count: 286
Characters: Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, Winry Rockbell
Notes: Agh, I'm very rusty on my FMA and ficwriting - it's a rough short scene set after their first homecoming as state alchemists.
"She started it!"
Winry brandished something sharp and metallic in his direction and his brother ducked; not, said her snide look, that he particularly needed to. "I started it? Who was the one talking about motor oil in the soup and grease on the bread?"
"Brother..." Al tried, uncertainly.
"I only said -- you threw a wrench at my head!"
"It missed," she pointed out, miffed, and any retort that Ed might have made fell unspoken, stifled by the ominous look she directed towards the spare clenched at her hip. "Not that it really matters, because even if it'd hit, it wouldn't have struck anything of any great importance!"
"Are you calling me short?"
"Midget!" Evidently deciding that invective was falling short, she snatched up the nearest plate and hurled it; scatters of tiny green pods mashed against his hair as he crouched against the wall. "Bean-sized!"
At the last, his head popped indignantly over the surface of the table. "I am not," he roared, just as a glob of potato descended.
There was a splat.
Crumbs hung in his hair, crusted thickly in his lashes as he blinked severely, and finally managed to bite out a sentence. "I don't see why you're even making something like this!"
"Brother," Al glanced at him dubiously, making an extremely good impression of pursed lips with a mouth that only clanked.
"For you," she said, "you tiny idiot! You spend forever away from home, never even write and you think we wouldn't be glad when you came back?"
"...Ah," said Ed, with the suave eloquence that had won him the hearts of creditors everywhere.
"Motor oil," Winry snapped in disgust. She left him wiping mashed potato from his brow.