Ed walked back from the post office slowly, his packages in a bag at his side. One of the books he’d ordered had come in (but not the other one, dammit), and a letter from Granny for Winry, and a letter from Al for both of them. It was hot- it was always hot here. Ed liked hot better than cold, but mostly he liked “pleasant”. And “room temperature”. And “my balls are neither attempting to escape nor burrowing straight into my body”.
He pushed open the door to Garfiel’s shop, and went inside. There was no one around, strangely enough, and Ed went to drop his bag on the table.
Except there was a note on the table. “Edward, darling,” it said, in Garfiel’s ridiculously flowery handwriting. “Could you be a dear and check the upstairs closet for me?”
Ed sighed. Fine. Cryptic note from Winry’s boss, fine. He could go check the upstairs closet. He tromped upstairs, pulled open the closet door, and-
He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. It certainly wasn’t a new dress shirt in what was definitely his size and not Garfiel’s. It was a dark burgundy. Not as bright as Ed would have picked for himself, but he had to admit that Garfiel had taste in colors. There was a note pinned on the front.
“This will look fabulous with the leather pants, sweetheart,” it said. Ed flushed to match the shirt. “Put those on, and the shirt (and no, sweety, it isn’t for me! Winry loves those pants!) and then check the W.C.”
Ed didn’t really want to wear the leather pants in this heat. But the idea that Winry liked seeing him in them made him feel-
With a snort, he grabbed the shirt off the hanger, stomped into the bedroom to change clothes. He chose to ascribe the fact that the shirt fit perfectly to the measurements that they had on him as an automail client, rather than thinking about Garfiel just being able to tell.
He went to the washroom, and was unsurprised to find another note. This one was pinned underneath a small bottle.
“Mmmmm,” the note said (who wrote out a non-word like ‘Mmmmm’? Garfiel was so weird). “I bet that shirt looks wonderful on you, darling! This is a little present. Use it sparingly; just one or two spritzes. Then go check the kitchen. P.S. Why don’t you try wearing your hair down? Winry tells me how much she likes that.”
This was ridiculous. He was not taking advice on how to dress from Winry’s boss, who, by the way, was as likely to wear a dress as he was pants. Except- did she really like his hair down? Ed pulled out the tie, and shook his hair out experimentally. He looked down at the bottle and sniffed it. He’d never bothered with cologne, but he guessed it might smell okay. He sprayed himself once, and coughed.
He washed his face and hands (since he was in the washroom anyway), and went down to the kitchen. In the kitchen was a single rose in a vase, with a note underneath. Ed snatched the note up.
“Darling Winry has had a truly awful day,” Garfiel wrote, his handwriting going a little shaky. “If I know her, she’ll spend the rest of the day in the machine shop, and she won’t even notice these little notes. She needs you to cheer her up, sweetheart, and maybe to let her cry a little. So there’s a rose to give her, and I put some dinner in the icebox. You can thank me later. And don’t worry- I’ve got a date, so I’ll be gone until morning!” Ed blushed, and looked down at the page again. “P.S. There are extra sheaths in my washroom if you run out, darling!”
Ed coughed, spluttering a little. He crushed the note into a little ball and threw it into the trash bin.
Still, if Winry was having a bad day...
Ed picked up the rose (white, tinged with burgundy, her favorite) and ventured into the machine shop.
“I like those pants,” Winry said, later, sprawled lazily against him in the bed.
“So I hear,” Ed said, with a satisfied smile, stroking her hair with one hand. “I’m sorry you had such a shitty day.”
“That’s okay,” Winry said. “It got a lot better. Thanks.”