The dark doorway of the automail shop loomed before them. From inside came the ominous noise of a drill put to good and skillful use. They gulped.
Ed pointed inside with his flesh hand. "I-I'm not going in there!"
"Don't you have to?" asked Ling.
"You can't make me!!"
"But you must have your arm fixed, right?"
"You go too, then!"
"WHAT?" Ling blanched.
Ed waved his mangled right arm at him, snarling. "It's your fault my automail is like this! You and your damn sword!"
"You're the one who suggested we sparr!" Ling protested.
"But you didn't have to slice through it!!!"
"Better than your real arm, yes?"
"AGGHHHH!" Ed fumed. "Anyway, you're going first!"
"If I go first, she's going to assume it's MY fault and chuck a wrench at me!"
"Isn't it usually your fault, though?"
Ed couldn't make a decent reply between gnashing his teeth together, but he didn't have to, because at that moment Winry came out to see what was the commotion.
"Ed, Ling! What are you here...for..." Her eyes caught sight of the shreds of metal hanging from Ed's arm socket.
Within half a second, Ed had taken refuge behind Ling and pushed him forward, hissing, "Explain! Explain!!"
Dripping buckets of nervous sweat, Ling stammered, "Ah...well...Miss Winry, you're looking lovely today." He abruptly folded his arms into his sleeves and bowed.
A wrench went flying.
For once, Ed wished he'd never grown any taller.