"Your getting a new foot" Miles mentioned as he passed by him to enter the the building.

White scared eyelids blinked from where he was washing his face.

"Come again?"

Miles voice came thought the open door,"You heard me- i just got off the line with General Armstrong, she says you're useless on crutches, so we have to get you a prosthetic."

He rubbed his temples. He never liked taking orders from the Brigg's bear. The idea of a long train ride to get to said prosthetic was not appealing. Automail shops hadn't yet taken a hold in ishbal. Though the place might be ripe with amputees, Ishbalans just weren't ready to accept those kind of Amestrian goods; he understood why.

"We heading out now?" If he thought about it, he hadn't really broken his crutch in yet- maybe this could wait a week, or a month, or indefinitely.

"Yeah- get ready- we're on the train to Rush Valley in half a hour."

Curses. So he got up.

Tens stops, a flat seat, and too many pastures to count later, Miles and him arrived at a gaudy sign held by fake automail hands .

He adjusted his lenses as he followed his uniformed companion's lead. It had been 2 years since he last walked around with sunglasses, rain or shine, and strangely uncomfortable to be behind them again. Glancing around at the numerous automail shops everywhere- his lip corners dipped.

"Miles- I'm just getting a fake foot- any one of these shops would be good enough for that."

"Half your calf, an ankle, and a foot- but yeah, they would" Miles corrected.

He glared at his companion, who was still scanning a note and the signs as they passed.

"Then why aren't we stopping?"

"Because General Armstrong wants you to get a prosthetic that can stand the cold up north and the heat in the desert- there's one shop here that does work with that – ah here it is-Atelier Garfiel's"

Before he could ask what Miles meant by that- the uniformed man walked right in, frowning, he ducked after. The shop was lit by sunlight and smelt of grease and polished metals. Its wares: legs, arms, and auto mail limbs, hung on the walls and around the counters. There was another customer in, presumably talking to the owner who- is that lipstick?

"Oh heelloooo there strangers! I'll be with you shortly! " He twitched at the wink the lipstick wearing man sent in their general direction.

Miles shrugged, "So the shop owner's gay- who knew."

"...the Bear knew, why does she want me up north Miles?"

His quarter blood brethren smirked back, "She likes your company believe it or not… and she wants an explanation about your no-alchemy policy, we'll be up north for a week by the end of this year.

"I thought you already explained her that."

Miles shrugged, "I did, but you know how she hates second-hand anecdotes-" and was promptly interrupted, when the shop owner sidled up a smidge too close.

"Gentlemen! Sorry for the wait- how can I help you today?"

Miles face didn't even twitch," Hello Mr. Garfiel, I'm Major Miles, we're here to order a new leg for my co-worker here, not automail, a plain prosthetic. But we'd like it if you could build it out of the weather-resistance-alloy your shop has developed."

"Ooooohhh thaaat- well- I can get you measured-" the shop keeper scrutinized him up and down analytically, then turned back to Miles.

"But you'll have to talk to Winry about the alloy- She developed it for her cute boyfriend," at this, his hair stood on end.

Mile's face did twitch this time, "pardon me?"

"My apprentice deary- she'll be returning to her own family shop soon- a shame really- she's already doing so well here in Rush valley – I'm surprised you two heard about the alloy and didn't hear that. Well never mind, let me get her now-WIIIINNRY you got new customers!"

He was already pivoting on this crutch, out, out, out, now.

"Yeah-coming!" a familiar voice rang out, only to a halt when she walked in.

Stark silence fell.

A lurch forward on his right leg and he was out of the shop entrance, cursing up a storm in his head, Damned Armstrong!

xxxxxxxx

"-nice to see you again Miss Winry," Miles directed at her awkwardly, and then looked distractedly back to where his companion disappeared off to.

"M-Major Miles?- was that-?" She couldn't finish.

Miles looked back to the paled skin girl, "Sorry about this surprise-just give me a moment, we'll be back shortly-"and was off.

The uniformed Ishballan caught up quickly through the streets and hollered, "Oi, you really are getting fast on those!"

"-We're not going back," Scar gritted out between gnashed teeth.

"Alright- it was unexpected- but-"

"-WE'RE NOT GOING BACK MILES!" the angry man snarled out, but then a wrench suddenly conked against his skull, knocking him forward. Miles blinked and looked to the direction where the assailing tool came from, to see a red faced girl marching up to them.

"That was rude Scar!"

He scanned for on-looking faces quickly," Miss- I would refrain from-" She walked right past him to the bewildered looking amputee, trying to regain his balance on his crutch. She scooped up her fallen wrench, then snatched Scar's mullet and yanked. The ex-monk's head jerked and Scar almost fell backwards, twisting to pivot haphazardly around.

"-Girl I-"

"- And why are you injured again?"

"- I can't walk like this!"

"Well tough- it's your fault for stumping into my store, then stumping right out!"

"I thought it was Garfiel's store?" The major commented neutrally, he's never seen Scar so flustered.

Winry paused and looked at him.

"Yes- it's his- sorry I didn't say hi to you earlier."

"Not a problem- we should be the ones apologizing-"

"Rockbell, just release my-"

"NO"

The young automail engineer threw a withering gaze at the scarred man, who frowned in return, though awkwardly since his head was tilted to accommodate her tugging hard on his hair.

Scar breathed out, "It was his benefactor's idea-" looking irritably in his direction, "I didn't know you worked in this shop- we'll leave- just let me go."

"Oh as if! YOU are the one who waltzed into Garfiel's shop looking for ME! You're not leaving till I get an explanation for it! "

The ex-monk bit his lips. Miles shook his head, she really was something.

"How about we discuss this in the store Miss, we're right in front of it."

They were of course.

Winry harrumphed and turned away- though she still tugged on the hair, the nameless man followed, sending a corrosive glare at him. The Major just smiled, taking the thinly veiled ultimatum in stride. Winry politely asked her automail teacher/partner to be excused, and Miles turned to apologize for the scene.

Someone had to keep Garfiel from eavesdropping after all.

xxxxxxxx

"Out with it- why you are here."

Scar lifted his left stump and pointed to it, straight-laced.

Winry resisted the urge to smack him upside,"I can see that! I mean everything else."

Scar's brow furrowed.

She just crossed her arms and stared back.

He broke eye contact again and Winry's lips curled.

"Why are you missing a quarter of your leg?"

The Ishbalan with his now crooked mullet glanced back.

"A truck was going to run over a girl and her stray kitten, it ran over my foot instead," eyes darting away again.

Winry's eyebrows raised mildly, "A kitten?" There was a word she never thought she'd hear from his mouth.

"We named the cat Truffles. The girl liked it."

"...Truffles?We?"

"Miles named him- is that all?" Scar asked, dear Ishbala why wouldn't she just let him leave?

She shook her head, "No, start with where you've been hiding this past year and a half." She almost had a heart attack when she saw him again, disappearing out of the store like a ghost.

She wasn't going to tell him that though.

Scar blinked than asked guardedly, "...what did the short alchemist say?"

Winry's lips pursed, "Don't call Ed short- But everything as far as I can tell. He said he didn't know what happened to you, after you activated your brother's research. No one else mentioned you again either. So how did you get out? Was it General Armstrong?"

"You don't sound like you need an explanation," Scar grumbled.

She shrugged, "you walked in with Major Miles- that's kind of a giveaway- but what did she save you for?"

He paused, reading her face again, there was less accusation there, but she still demanded answers, Scar sighed.

"Miles is working under Armstrong's and Mustang's orders to lead the Ishbal restoration campaign, they wanted my help in keeping faith in Ishbala."

"...They wanted you to preach?" Winry wondered what kind of irony that was- serial killers as priests- and Mustang, she frowned, "-wait, why didn't Mr. Mustang say anything to us about you?"

At that point, the door opened and closed with a clack, and Miles supplied an answer.

"I don't know about his reasons for keeping quiet, but I know we wanted Scar's help because he had connections to Ishbalan monks. It's those people and the Ishbalans they knew, that helped us save the country."

Scar refused to look at either of them and Miles continued.

"We were pretty sure communications would be harder if we let him die, he use to be a monk before the Ishbal campaign," Scar's expression turned stony, " – and the Ishbalans trust him, believe it or not, more than they can to trust me, or any other Amestrain soldier, even now."

Winry looked at Miles passive expression, then back to Scar, who's face hadn't changed. He doesn't want me to know about his past?

She snorted, it was almost funny, except not really.

"Alright - I get it that he's doing something useful, but I want answers to something else."

She regarded Miles with a frown, "Why did you- or is it General Armstrong? Bring this case to me? There are a lot of other auto mail mechanics here who can give him a leg. So why did you two show up in this store? We're pretty far in rush valley, most come to this store because they know of Garfiel's or my reputation. You said earlier that you could explain Major Miles, so explain: What are you guys banking on my tolerance for? Is this the way you intend to keep track on Edward or Al? Through me?To make me Scar's mechanic?"

Miles was a little unnerved at how similar her reasoning was to his own, but kept his answer to the truth, they didn't have time to waste making enemies of friends.

"I'm a soldier Miss Rockbell, I follow orders from General Armstrong because it's my duty and that's where my loyalties lie. But I didn't come here looking for you per say, I was asked to find this shop and request its weather- resistance alloy. I don't know what she wanted to accomplish exactly by sending us to you. It might be what you assume, and it might not. I'm sorry if we are pushing your boundaries, right now though, Scar just needs a sturdy foot to walk on each day. So will you help us on this matter? You'll be paid whatever price you ask."

There was a pause before Winry sighed, "-don't worry, I'll help. I just don't like these kind of surprises, or being manipulated for politics. Please tell her to at least contact me once, before asking for my services next time- okay?"

Miles chuckled lightly, "Alright- i'll pass that along. If it's any comfort, she doesn't have any ill will towards you, I can't say she likes Edward or Alphonse, but I think she has more distaste for Mustang than either of them, and I work with him regularly."

The girl smiled slightly, "aah-hn, well, that's better than nothing, now," and turned her attention back to Scar, "you ready to start?"

The one-legged man's expression was reluctant, "You don't have to do this; we can go somewhere else." Miles gave him a look like 'no we can't' but he ignored it.

She tilted her head, "Weren't you listening Scar? Look, I work here, and as someone who's proud of my job, I help everyone who requests my service. You might not want this aid because it's me- but you're in my work area right now, that means you're getting it."

Scar's sighed. He wasn't trying to insult her- but it's too late for that thought so he just nodded.

The blonde mechanic rolled up her sleeves and got to work.

"You know, you were a lot faster at getting here last time."

Scar didn't answer, maintaining his stony cold shoulder while Miles shifted his gaze back forward.

He knew the older Ishbalan was angry at him, that goes without saying, but personally he thought Scar should have just gotten over it. At the very least made up his mind on whatever it was that was eating at him.

Surprisingly, Scar was the one who broke the silence, as they walked through the everyday noises.

"I was fastest at getting away from here, I'm heading towards my problems now- what do you expect?"

"Hnng, Well, how about some courtesy and gratefulness? She's giving you a new leg, that's suppose to solve some of your problems."

Scar snorted derisively and Miles rolled his eyes. Nope, wherever it was that Scar disappeared off to for the past three days and nights did not help the older man's temperament, and certainly didn't help his.

The quarter-blood shook these ruminations from his head though; there wasn't any point at getting worked up at Scar. And while haggard looking, the amputee did show up for the fitting time, like Miles knew that he would. Scar, for all the sum of his parts, would not run away from Winry Rockbell, especially if she was helping him.

Again.

Because of that, Miles didn't have the heart to stay angry at him.

Winry waved them in from the shop entrance.

xxxxxxxx

"There you are, so- how did you two enjoy your stay in Rush Valley?" her smile didn't hide the bags under her eyes.

"It was interesting; I'm surprised at how good coffee is here, especially the café two blocks down," Miles replied, knowing that Scar wouldn't.

The blond girl smiled, "Yes, Renee's place is my favourite in this street too, Don's is also good and he sells coffee beans in bulk if you wanted some on your trip back. It's on the corner of Ashton street, near the train station"

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind. So, did everything go smoothly in constructing the leg?"

"Ehhh- roughly- i had to finish some priority orders before yours, but its done, the sleeve and leg are ready– come and sit down Scar, I'll show you the right way to put it on."

He did as instructed, sitting down on the stool she pointed to and rolling his pant leg around the knee. Winry picked up a porous like sleeve from the table, turning it inside out and started rolling it out on to his stump.

"You'll have to wash this sleeve regularly, especially after walking around a lot - this sleeve will wear out within 6-14 months- you'll either have to come for a new one- or just mail me an order and I'll send it to you- now on with the leg-"

She took the metallic prosthetic from its resting place, and set it on its heel, then eased the open end onto Scar's covered leg.

" do this carefully- if you push too hard- you'll damage the sleeve and the prosthetic, as well as pinch yourself- see it fits snugly- this what you want. Then you pull up the guards to lock'em in place and buckle the belts. These are for re-enforced grip- you don't have to always wear them- but it'ill extend the life of the sleeve. Now, you can stand up and try it."

The scarred man did so, shifting from one foot to another, face thoughtful as he adjusted to the new pressures on his stump.

"How's it feel- un-balanced? Wobbly?" Winry asked as she kept her eyes on Scar's shifting feet. The retired serial killer tried to walk left only to stop suddenly, turning back to see his coat snagged on the underside of the work bench. He tugged at the fabric again, only causing it to stretch.

"Hold on," Winry said as she walked around him and fiddled with it, the coat end was caught stubbornly on several sharp nails ends.

"Actually, just take your coat off- it'll be easier to get this free. You might want to go in the back yard too, there's not enough space here."

At the lack of reply, Winry looked back up at Scar, who looked out the window into the fenced yard uncertainly.

" No one will see you- it's mid morning-shop keepers watch front- backyards are for storage and smithies."

Scar paused before finally nodding, and did as she asked, leaving both arms bared with their alchemical scrawl. Miles opened the door she directed to and both walked into the yard. Scar walked clumsily, trying to find a comfortable gait.

After untangling the dust coloured coat, she left it on a clean area of her workspace (to prevent further tangling- she was too much of a realist to do it out of kindness). Winry made her way out, to lean against the fence beside Miles.

xxxxxxxx

"His left arm is new," she commented randomly.

Miles turned his gaze back to her, "It's not- it was necessary for the promised day. At least that's what he told me."

"…Does it destroy like his other one?" it sounded nonchalant, but Miles could feel it wasn't.

"I don't really know, he hasn't used either when we work."

"That's because I don't need to," Winry jolted at Scar's comment as he walked away from them. "I'm going try this with shoes," and walked back in to the shaded workshop.

She rubbed her arm sheepishly, and Miles sighed.

"Don't mind him Winry, he can take a simple question like that."

"…"

"Long night?"

"oh- yeah, wish that's the only reason I'm out of it."

Miles looked at her questioningly.

She scratched her cheek, embarrassed, "It's just really strange, seeing him walk around like that."

"... because of the leg?"

She shook her head, "that, and...it's him walking around with his arms in the open."

Miles looked back to where Scar had entered- no doubt just putting on the shoes.

"Why's that?"

She seemed to flinch, and then looked harder into space, "Edward has a large angry scar where his auto mail grafts use to meet his chest- every time I tune his left leg now, he just goes out exercising his leg, not his arm like he use to. And Scar..."

Is doing the same- same leg, same arm- different place, different skin.

Miles massaged his eyeballs, shit, he shouldn't have asked, it must be some strange hell for her, " Miss Winry- Scar's not-"

"-I know- it's just alienating seeing him do the same things-" as someone she loved.

She clamped shut when Scar walked out with both shoes on; his gait was a bit more comfortable now, he turned to face Winry.

"Can I run or jump in this?"

Winry's lips thinned "- It's built for walking Scar."

"You didn't answer my question."

The frown twisted on her face, "You can try it- but it might hurt the leg, and it will hurt you."

Scar nodded, then tried to jog to the end of the yard and back anyways. His speed was decent for a fresh amputee, but no where near before. Scar leaned against the wall and grimaced once he got there.

Winry pushed off the fence, " See, I told you- is it stuck?"

Scar slid to the ground- taking off the guard and leather belts-wriggled it, and popped it off as soon as she got to where he sat.

"No, it's not"

Winry made a disapproving sound as she picked up the leg to examine for immediate damage she could fix.

There was none, "Good, but if you keep trying to run on this leg, it will wear out faster, or break. I'm not fixing it because you were being stupid with it. Now was there anything you found difficult in walking- anything uncomfortable? I can adjust it right now- otherwise those small discomforts will get magnified in the long run."

Scar shook his head, " No Rockbell, it works perfectly."

She nodded, placing the prosthetic in front of his stump, "Start calling me Winry Scar- and our deal is done." Standing back up, she half wondered why she said that- but her clients all called her Winry, it was just the way things are.

The man was silent, looking at the fake leg.

Miles tapped his fist in realization, "I haven't written you the cheque yet, let me get that-" he trailed off back into the building and Winry made to follow, but-

"Thank you…Winry,"

-She had to stop.

"for everything." For the leg, the lessons, the tolerance.

She looked back to him; his eyes seemed to waver before steadying.

"…It's...not a problem- I'm just doing my job," she replied weakly, why did she want to look away?

"Is there anything I can do, to pay you back for this leg?" the red eyes she's use to only seeing in passing were not looking for escape.

And they weren't on the battle field this time.

"Y-you don't need to do anything, just- use that leg the way it's supposed to- and besides Miles is paying me," what else could she say?

So the white scarred eyelids closed over, "I see."

Then it was gone as Scar slipped on his leg and stood up, "Thank you, nonetheless, we should probably be going now"

Winry made a noise of agreement as she turned and walked back in the work shop, almost bumping into Miles.

"Careful there- Anyways here's the cheque Miss"

"Oh- thank you, and hold on, I'll be right back," she walked briskly past him and out the work shop.

Miles looked carefully back at Scar who was putting on his coat.

"Everything alright?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

Miles opened his mouth to reply as Winry walked back in, "Here's the receipt Major Miles."

She handed him the paper and she pointed a tin box in Scar's direction," and this is the maintenance kit for day to day wear on your leg- you can read Amestrian right?"

Scar nodded and took the small box, placing it inside a pocket of his jacket.

"Good- care instructions are inside- so is my work contact information for replacement parts in Resembol. I think that's about all the things you need- are you guys going to go soon?"

Miles checked the wall clock, two hours before boarding, "Just about- thank you for your hard work Miss Rockbell, and for putting up with him." Scar swatted away his pointed finger as he smirked.

She waved her hand, "don't sweat it, just go, take care of yourselves and make sure I don't see either of you again soon."

"Of course Miss, and here," reaching into his coat pocked, he gave her a small business card, "Don't hesitate to call us too if you ever need anything."

Winry looked at the card with a raised eyebrow, "I don't think I'll need to, but thank you anyways."

Miles smiled, "You never know, farewell Miss Rockbell," he finished with a nod

She nodded back, as the major walked out the shop with a wave, Scar followed after, carrying his crutch, but stopped right at the entrance to peer back.

Winry's hand faltered and he blinked once before taking out his shades to look at her one last time.

"Thank you again, Winry Rockbell- This debt is not forgotten, I promise to pay you back for it ...soon." On went the glasses and into the sun, he walked till he was gone.

Winry slowly caressed her temples, turning back into the shop, he didn't listen, stupid.

"Mou, so those handsome Ishbalans have left?" Garfiel droned sadly, peeking out the entrance door.

She replied tiredly, " and thank goodness they are!"

"Handsome?"

She spluttered, "What? NO!" okay Miles maybe but-"ARG we're not disussing this!"

Garfiel pursed his lips,"so you do have a history with those two- though they seemed a little too old for you dear,"

She litterally sqwaked, "GARFIEL!"

The older man laughed, "Alright, alright i'll stop, I'm just teasing, oh look at you- you're all red now."

Winry fumed and threw her hands up in defeat, MEN!

to be continued?

AN: i do have an idea how to take this furthur a chapter or a few more- but I'm not sure if I can with what i have in mind without making things the FMA peeps OOC, oh well- tell me if you guys are happy with it as is ;3