A/N: Because we all know Erza's notion of nutrition has to be questionable at best...

June x793

It happened on the very first morning after they had moved in together.

It had not, by any means, been the classic 'I love you and you love me, so let's shack up' sort of move. True, Jellal loved Erza and she loved him but their relationship as a couple was still very much early days. They had, so far, only gone on a handful of dates together and never gotten past heavy making out when it came to physical intimacy. Any sane person would be able to see they were nowhere ready for the usual sort of romantic cohabitation.

So, the question was: why were they cohabitating in the first place? Well, it just so happened that, fairly recently, Jellal had found himself with some urgency in moving out of the room the guild had been providing for him in its headquarters due to certain… covert activities he had come to learn that were happening in his bed in his absence, courtesy of the guild drunk and her equally drunk boyfriend. Really, he had been willing to move to the sewers at that point, so deep ran his desperation and disgust… but Erza had put her foot down at that. Not at the sewers factor… no, more like at the Jellal-having-somewhere-he-could-run-away-to-and-wallow-in-guilt-while-avoiding-all-things-happy-Erza-included factor. And it seemed she didn't trust anybody but herself – and therefore any home but her own – to keep his guilty outbursts in check.

He had been more than a little surprised to find out that she had, in fact, owned a house roughly since she had qualified as an S-class member (something like eleven years before, time spent in stasis included). She had, apparently, put off moving into it ever since in fear of loneliness after being used to constant companionship at Fairy Hills, which was what made Jellal moving in with her 'the perfect arrangement', in her own words (said in a high, trembling voice that he would later identify as her own dose of mortification).

He had easily agreed when she had first suggested it, mostly because he had, by then, realized that there was no saying 'no' to her when she really wanted something. Besides, the arrangement had seemed tame enough and geared up to avoid any awkwardness: along with occupying separate bedrooms, they were to act as friends and housemates and nothing more within the walls of that house, leaving all romantic interaction at the door until they were ready to further their relationship to that level. Simple and easy, right?

Wrong. Suffice to say, the effects of prohibition were often reversed.

In hindsight, he probably would have been more comfortable with sharing an abode with the rats and miscellaneous vermin that the sewer option had included. Not because he found Erza far more disgusting or anything of the sort. No… it was the very opposite. And that was the problem. It was just so hard all the time…

He had slept maybe four hours in that first night, too busy staring at the ceiling through which he could picture Erza sleeping in her own bed inside her room one floor above him like some shameless creeper, while at the same time berating himself from doing so because of the rules they had set up to keep things comfortable (an impossibility if he had ever seen one).

And it wasn't just the night that brought up the lustful thoughts. It had been like that all day the previous day – reverse psychology had kicked in the moment he had walked through the door as one of the house's inhabitants and the rules about leaving lust outside had come into play. Soon enough, that little bead of sweat he had seen running down the back of Erza's neck while they carried her dresser upstairs had appeared to his eyes as the most erotic thing he had seen in his life and the rather conservative long-sleeved pajamas she had worn the previous night while serving herself a glass of water in the kitchen before bed might as well have been the naughtiest of all naughty negligées. He was hopeless… and hopelessness was going to make their water bill sky high what with his constant need for showers. On the positive side, they would probably save quite a lot in water heating, though, seeing as his showers did not require such a luxury.

So, as he stared at his bedroom door that first morning, he was not looking forward to coming out and yet again face the torturous task of spending the day right by the source of his endless lust without embarrassing himself. But he could already hear her going about outside, moving things around. He couldn't simply hide in his room all day and leave all the work to her. In fact, she wouldn't even let him – the very basis of them moving in together was her being able to drag him out of his room when he felt like hiding. As such, he forced himself to get up and, very stiffly, get dressed (not needing a shower after the half dozen he had taken throughout the night).

He spotted her almost as soon as he opened the door, sitting on the living room floor while inspecting what seemed to be an instruction manual to assembling the partially-constructed chair in front of her. Even though she was nowhere near seductively-dressed – in fact, she was still wearing the long-sleeved pajamas from the previous night and her hair was in a rather messy ponytail – his mind went out of control almost immediately, forcing him to fight the urge to close the distance between them and kiss the living daylights out of her.

For a moment, he considered suggesting that they stepped out of the house – and therefore out of the agreed non-romantic area – for a more intimate morning greeting. Such an idea was immediately refuted, however, since he was sure she would think him a complete pervert with no sense of self-control if he made such a suggestion. That was their home – no perverted thinking inside their home!

"Jellal?" she said, blushing when she noticed him standing there looking at her strangely. "G-good morning."

"Good morning," he responded awkwardly, forcing himself to look away. "You've started early."

"There's still a lot to do," she replied, gesturing at the warehouse-like state of the living room, full of boxes and bags, before giving him a more thorough observational look. "You seem tired. Did you not sleep well?"

He felt his face heating. "Ah, it's nothing. Don't worry about it."

She narrowed her eyes. "Restfulness is important. Maybe you should take a few more hours of sleep."

"I really don't think I could…"

"Was it the bed?" she interrupted him and, then, in line with that behavior, didn't even give him the chance to answer the question. "Why, of course it was. I should have realized that after having been abandoned in this house for so long, it wouldn't have been in a condition to be slept in. What was the issue? Was it creaky? Was the mattress bulgy? Maybe we should get you another one. Heart Kreuz has launched a very pleasant new bedroom set…"

"No, no! There is no need. There was nothing wrong with the bed or the mattress," he assured her. Why did it have to be a bed they were talking about?! "I just take some time getting used to new surroundings. And I couldn't possibly allow myself to rest while you do all the unpacking. It wouldn't be fair."

"Considering all of your possessions are already unpacked, I'd say it would," she countered.

Since he owned very little, he couldn't really say that wasn't the case. "I'd still feel better by helping, regardless," he stated – truthfully, even though he was certain the constant closeness to her that would entail would be nothing short of physically painful. Then again, maybe he didn't need to be that close to help… "Have you eaten anything? I could run to the town and get us something to eat," he suggested.

She shook her head. "No need. I brought sandwiches yesterday. Help yourself. They're in the ice box."

He allowed himself a moment of mourning his foiled escape plan before raising an eyebrow as the content of her words hit him. "The ice box?" Why would she have sandwiches frozen in the first place? Sure, some sort of cold storage would help keeping them from spoiling but outright freezing them seemed just overkill. They'd probably end up soggy too…

Erza's only response was to gesture towards the kitchen, having already picked up a screwdriver and started her chair-building task, and, with a sigh, he made his way there, heading straight to the ice box. But, upon opening it, he found himself looking at only a tray of ice cubes and a box of ice cream. "Erza, I don't see any sandwiches here," he said loudly so Erza would hear him outside of the room.

"They're right there," she replied. "Next to the ice-cubes."

"There aren't any sandwiches next to the ice-cubes. Only ice-cream," he said back.

Erza didn't answer then. He simply heard her approaching steps before she walked into the kitchen with an annoyed look on her face. Mavis… she looked even prettier when she was angry… no! Bad thoughts!

And so, as Jellal fought his own closet-perverseness, Erza finally reached him.

She had been warned about situations like that. Upon announcing to some of the girls in Fairy Tail her intentions to move out of Fairy Hills and bring Jellal along to her new abode, she had been offered a tremendous amount of warnings about the living conditions of men. Up until then, not twenty-four hours after the move had occurred, Jellal had proven them all wrong: no toilet seat constantly up, no laundry strewn everywhere, no messiness… he was actually very neat and helpful. She shouldn't be surprised – he had spent over half a decade living in the constant company of Ultear and Meredy, who must have trained him well (not that he had seemed particularly slob-y before). But now one of those warnings had to come into play and, out of all things, it had to have been one of the strangest ones: refrigerator blindness. She was a bit disappointed.

So, she unceremoniously walked over to the ice box, reached in and pulled the box she was referring to, shoving it in front of Jellal's eyes. He blinked at it in confusion.

"What does it say here?"

"'Ice-cream'," he read.

"No. You're missing the line underneath. It's 'ice-cream sandwiches'," she informed him victoriously.

He stared at her. His brain was as frozen as the contents of the box. She… she couldn't… she wouldn't actually believe that… "You're joking, right?" he asked, just to be sure.

She frowned deeply. "Why would I ever be joking?!" she demanded.

He was quiet for a moment. She most certainly didn't look like she was joking. Oh, god. "Erza… you must know that ice-cream sandwiches are not the same as… say, tuna sandwiches…"

"Of course I do," she said firmly. "Just as ham sandwiches are not the same as chicken sandwiches."

"No, no, no. Wrong," he said almost desperately. "It's completely different."

"I agree – ice-cream sandwiches are much practical than most other sandwiches," she agreed, completely useless. "It's dairy in a sandwich – practically milk and toast, only tastier. The perfect breakfast!"

He felt something within him die at that statement. Oh, Erza… He loved the woman to death… but not even he could deny the truth that was revealing itself: that, nutritionally speaking, she had as much sense as a four-year-old. Or rather, she was so set on believing what she conveniently wanted to believe that she was even willing to ignore blatant facts that pointed on a completely different direction.

"Erza… ice-cream sandwiches don't even include bread."

"Of course they do. They are sandwiches – all sandwiches are made with bread! It's just special delicious bread."

"Also known as a cookie!"

She gave him a look. "Cookies are crispy. These are too soft to be cookies."

"Because they're soft cookies," he pointed out.

She gave him a skeptical look. The kind that said 'alright, if you say so… but I think you're stupid'.

He sighed. "Just to make sure, you don't… have this type of breakfast every single day, right?" Please say no. Please say no. Please say no.

"Of course not," she said, much to his relief. "I'm afraid my requip space doesn't allow for refrigeration."

He was confused. "Heh?" What did she mean by that?

"They would melt in there, Jellal," she explained, again looking at him like he was painfully dumb. "I couldn't possibly take ice-cream sandwiches along when I'm out on a job."

He hesitated for a moment. "So, what you're telling me is that you don't eat ice-cream sandwiches for breakfast when you're in a job. But other than that…"

"An ice-cream sandwich a day will keep the doctor away," she quoted the nonexistent proverb.

Such a statement was so tragic that Jellal actively wanted to weep. Weep because, as he looked at her, he could only picture a gravestone saying 'Erza Scarlet, killed at age thirty by hyper diabetes/sky-high cholesterol/massive heart attack'. How was she not morbidly obese?!

But no… there was still hope. She did, after all, spend a lot of time in jobs, so maybe things would be different then. "And when you're away in jobs…"

She shrugged. "I mostly have cake for breakfast," she shamelessly provided. "But I always get the kind with extra cream."

Jellal's eye twitched. "For the dairy, I imagine."

"Indeed. It is a very important source of calcium."

Just like that, lust shattered. Which was not to say he was turned off when it came to Erza forever (as if that could even happened). No, his priorities were just rearranged. Suddenly, lusting after Erza was not the number one topic in his mind. How could it possibly be when he suddenly realized that his intervention was vital if he wanted to keep her alive?! From that moment on, his number one task would be to protect her from the biggest threat to her life at the moment: her own mind.

He took a deep breath and then spoke. "Erza, I think we are going to need to have a long discussion about your current diet."

A/N: I hope you guys liked it! Nothing like picturing your girlfriend's impending death to kill the lust :D

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