Prompt 201, Skip, "Company For A Quiet Night"
Title: Company For A Quiet Night
Author: sceptick
Series FMA:B/manga
Rating/Warnings: T for swearing.
Timeline/Spoilers: set during the timeskip when Ed was traveling with Greed, Heinkel, and Darius.
Word count: 993 (whew!)
Characters/Pairings: pre-Ed/Ling
Notes: eek! If it's too late to submit this, mod, please let me know and I'll take it down immediately.
Summary: Travelling is lonely when you're stuck with the Chimaera Brigade and Greed the Avaricious Moron.
There’d been a time when, if Ed, Al, Winry, or any combination of the three was missing, the first place to look was down by the old Miller pond. It was huge (or at least they thought so,) and there was always something new to poke at, climb over, or dig up. And when they were all tired out, well, that was the other cool thing about the place, besides its size. All along the shore were hundreds of perfectly flat, perfectly sized rocks just waiting to be skipped.
This lake was no Miller pond, but it’d do the trick.
Ed’s muscles ached as he bent to find a decent stone. They’d been on the move all day, and since he’d, you know, taken a pole to the chest not so long ago, that wasn’t so easy anymore.
Still. “You’re gettin’ old, Ed,” he said to himself, since Al wasn’t there to say it for him. Shit, Al. How long had it been since he’d seen Al? Or Winry?
He wasn’t going to think about it. He couldn’t risk breaking down and bawling like a baby, not when Greed was lurking around god knew where, and Heinkel and Darius could be back from wood-gathering at any moment. So. No crying. No thinking about Al. No thinking about Winry. No thinking at all would be best, actually.
His fingers curled around the edge of a small, smooth stone. Perfect. He hadn’t done this in ages, but...
He reeled back and let it fly. The stone sailed and hit the water just right, bouncing back up. He counted the skips: five total. Not bad at all.
“Score one for muscle memory,” he said, smiling a little.
“What are you doing?”
Lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t heard anyone approaching. He spun on the spot, hands coming up to clap on instinct, but halted when he saw who it was. Greed, or possibly Ling, depending on his mood and, hell, the position of the Moon in relation to Jupiter or some shit like that, raised his hands. “Sorry,” he said, with the tiniest of smirks.
Ed scowled. Smirking meant it was probably Greed after all. He turned away to hide his expression, pretending to scan the area for another stone. Greed wasn’t getting any more fuel to mess with him. “Not a problem,” Ed said, keeping his tone as even as possible.
Probably-Greed made a thoughtful noise behind him. “So,” he said, “what are you doing?”
Ed paused. If this was really Greed, shouldn’t they have reached the mocking stage already? Suddenly less sure, he said, slowly, “Who wants to know?”
“You can’t tell the difference, Ed? I’m hurt.”
Ed grinned, spinning around. “Ling!”
“Miss me?” Ling said, smiling back. He looked so dumb, but that made Ed grin even harder. Goddamn, it’d been too long.
“How long was I out?” Ling asked, echoing Ed’s thoughts.
“You mean, how long have I been stuck alone with just the Chimaera Brigade and Greed the Avaricious Moron for company?” Ed huffed irritably, rolling his eyes. “Let’s just leave it at a really fucking long time, okay?”
“Mmm. Sorry about that.”
“Not your fault.”
There was silence for a moment, then Ed stepped away, casting about for a good rock. “It’s this dumb game that, uh, little kids play. You find a flat stone, like,” he crouched, “this one. Then you throw it, right, and you see how many times you can make it skip along the surface.”
Ling followed him to the water’s edge, frowning. “Doesn’t it just sink?”
“Eventually, sure, but if you throw it right...” Ed demonstrated. Seven skips! He turned to check that Ling was suitably awed.
“Impressive. Strange, but impressive.” Ling cocked his head, then grinned slyly at Ed. “Like many of your country’s customs.”
“Hey! Don’t you diss my country’s customs, Mr. Where-I’m-From-We-Don’t-Wear-Shirts!”
Ling sighed sadly, looking down at himself. “I do now.” After a moment of very dedicated pouting, he returned his attention to Ed.
“Can I try?”
“Huh?” Ling crouched down, and Ed wondered for the thousandth time how he could move in those damned pants. When Ling stood up, a stone in hand, Ed understood. “Oh! Sure, I guess. Here -“
Ed reached out, taking Ling’s hand in his own and shaping it around the rock. Ling didn’t even flinch at the cold automail, although Ling’s skin was warm to Ed’s flesh hand, so he must have felt it. “There,” he said, stepping back. “Now just fling it, like you’d do with a Frisbee.”
“A what?”
Ed growled. “Goddamn foreigner,” he said, and he moved behind Ling to wrap his fingers around Ling’s wrist, pulling Ling’s arm back in an arc. “Don’t let go just yet,” he warned. With one hand on Ling’s shoulder to hold him in position, he guided Ling through the motion a few times.
Ling’s skin was really, really warm. Could homunculi get fevers?
“Ed?”
“Huh? Oh.” He stepped back, wiping his left hand on his pants. “Okay, give it a shot.”
Ling went through the motions just like Ed had shown him, and the stone flew smoothly across the water. Eight skips. Damn it. “Beginner’s luck, asshole,” Ed said, crossing his arms.
Five throws later, Ed’s jaw was hanging slack. “Uh,” he said. “Homunculi’s luck?”
Ling smiled smugly. When Ling spoke next, though, his voice was quieter, subdued. “Thanks for showing me, Ed.” Ed pretended not to notice the beads of sweat forming on Ling’s brow, but he knew what they meant. They were running out of time.
“Yeah,” he said. “No problem.”
They stood silent, staring out over the lake. Then: “We should do this again,” Ling said. “Next time I...”
Ed grinned. “Yeah, so I can kick your ass for real!”
“Don’t be so sure of yourself, Edward.”
He didn’t have Al, and he didn’t have Winry. But he wasn’t completely alone, so really, it could be a hell of a lot worse.
Author: sceptick
Series FMA:B/manga
Rating/Warnings: T for swearing.
Timeline/Spoilers: set during the timeskip when Ed was traveling with Greed, Heinkel, and Darius.
Word count: 993 (whew!)
Characters/Pairings: pre-Ed/Ling
Notes: eek! If it's too late to submit this, mod, please let me know and I'll take it down immediately.
Summary: Travelling is lonely when you're stuck with the Chimaera Brigade and Greed the Avaricious Moron.
There’d been a time when, if Ed, Al, Winry, or any combination of the three was missing, the first place to look was down by the old Miller pond. It was huge (or at least they thought so,) and there was always something new to poke at, climb over, or dig up. And when they were all tired out, well, that was the other cool thing about the place, besides its size. All along the shore were hundreds of perfectly flat, perfectly sized rocks just waiting to be skipped.
This lake was no Miller pond, but it’d do the trick.
Ed’s muscles ached as he bent to find a decent stone. They’d been on the move all day, and since he’d, you know, taken a pole to the chest not so long ago, that wasn’t so easy anymore.
Still. “You’re gettin’ old, Ed,” he said to himself, since Al wasn’t there to say it for him. Shit, Al. How long had it been since he’d seen Al? Or Winry?
He wasn’t going to think about it. He couldn’t risk breaking down and bawling like a baby, not when Greed was lurking around god knew where, and Heinkel and Darius could be back from wood-gathering at any moment. So. No crying. No thinking about Al. No thinking about Winry. No thinking at all would be best, actually.
His fingers curled around the edge of a small, smooth stone. Perfect. He hadn’t done this in ages, but...
He reeled back and let it fly. The stone sailed and hit the water just right, bouncing back up. He counted the skips: five total. Not bad at all.
“Score one for muscle memory,” he said, smiling a little.
“What are you doing?”
Lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t heard anyone approaching. He spun on the spot, hands coming up to clap on instinct, but halted when he saw who it was. Greed, or possibly Ling, depending on his mood and, hell, the position of the Moon in relation to Jupiter or some shit like that, raised his hands. “Sorry,” he said, with the tiniest of smirks.
Ed scowled. Smirking meant it was probably Greed after all. He turned away to hide his expression, pretending to scan the area for another stone. Greed wasn’t getting any more fuel to mess with him. “Not a problem,” Ed said, keeping his tone as even as possible.
Probably-Greed made a thoughtful noise behind him. “So,” he said, “what are you doing?”
Ed paused. If this was really Greed, shouldn’t they have reached the mocking stage already? Suddenly less sure, he said, slowly, “Who wants to know?”
“You can’t tell the difference, Ed? I’m hurt.”
Ed grinned, spinning around. “Ling!”
“Miss me?” Ling said, smiling back. He looked so dumb, but that made Ed grin even harder. Goddamn, it’d been too long.
“How long was I out?” Ling asked, echoing Ed’s thoughts.
“You mean, how long have I been stuck alone with just the Chimaera Brigade and Greed the Avaricious Moron for company?” Ed huffed irritably, rolling his eyes. “Let’s just leave it at a really fucking long time, okay?”
“Mmm. Sorry about that.”
“Not your fault.”
There was silence for a moment, then Ed stepped away, casting about for a good rock. “It’s this dumb game that, uh, little kids play. You find a flat stone, like,” he crouched, “this one. Then you throw it, right, and you see how many times you can make it skip along the surface.”
Ling followed him to the water’s edge, frowning. “Doesn’t it just sink?”
“Eventually, sure, but if you throw it right...” Ed demonstrated. Seven skips! He turned to check that Ling was suitably awed.
“Impressive. Strange, but impressive.” Ling cocked his head, then grinned slyly at Ed. “Like many of your country’s customs.”
“Hey! Don’t you diss my country’s customs, Mr. Where-I’m-From-We-Don’t-Wear-Shirts!”
Ling sighed sadly, looking down at himself. “I do now.” After a moment of very dedicated pouting, he returned his attention to Ed.
“Can I try?”
“Huh?” Ling crouched down, and Ed wondered for the thousandth time how he could move in those damned pants. When Ling stood up, a stone in hand, Ed understood. “Oh! Sure, I guess. Here -“
Ed reached out, taking Ling’s hand in his own and shaping it around the rock. Ling didn’t even flinch at the cold automail, although Ling’s skin was warm to Ed’s flesh hand, so he must have felt it. “There,” he said, stepping back. “Now just fling it, like you’d do with a Frisbee.”
“A what?”
Ed growled. “Goddamn foreigner,” he said, and he moved behind Ling to wrap his fingers around Ling’s wrist, pulling Ling’s arm back in an arc. “Don’t let go just yet,” he warned. With one hand on Ling’s shoulder to hold him in position, he guided Ling through the motion a few times.
Ling’s skin was really, really warm. Could homunculi get fevers?
“Ed?”
“Huh? Oh.” He stepped back, wiping his left hand on his pants. “Okay, give it a shot.”
Ling went through the motions just like Ed had shown him, and the stone flew smoothly across the water. Eight skips. Damn it. “Beginner’s luck, asshole,” Ed said, crossing his arms.
Five throws later, Ed’s jaw was hanging slack. “Uh,” he said. “Homunculi’s luck?”
Ling smiled smugly. When Ling spoke next, though, his voice was quieter, subdued. “Thanks for showing me, Ed.” Ed pretended not to notice the beads of sweat forming on Ling’s brow, but he knew what they meant. They were running out of time.
“Yeah,” he said. “No problem.”
They stood silent, staring out over the lake. Then: “We should do this again,” Ling said. “Next time I...”
Ed grinned. “Yeah, so I can kick your ass for real!”
“Don’t be so sure of yourself, Edward.”
He didn’t have Al, and he didn’t have Winry. But he wasn’t completely alone, so really, it could be a hell of a lot worse.