Note: I know, I should be working on my Royai fic. I honestly am. Promise. But I had the idea for this fic this morning so I had to write it. Plus my Gajevy feels are really high right now. They are just too damn cute.

Chapter 1

Levy McGarden crossed her arms impatiently, staring at Magnolia City from the 75th floor of the Fairy Tail high-rise building. The city's lights twinkled against the darkening sky. The office floor she leased from Markarov contained only a desk, the one she sat at currently, and the camera surveillance screens, which showed the front of the building, the roof, and every square inch of the floor.

Her two bodyguards, Jet and Droy, watched the screens for any hint of a problem. Jet was a thin but muscular young man of average height with his long orange hair kept in a ponytail. Droy was much bigger, since he lacked the willpower to quit eating, with dark, short hair. They both wore suits. They were all childhood friends, and Levy trusted them with her life. In return, they were very loyal to her. But she was the Boss.

One of Levy's blue curls fell in front of her face, so she tucked in under her yellow headband. She couldn't afford to look unkempt during a meeting, especially a meeting of this caliber. She wore a yellow dress with white ribbons. She liked to dress as innocently as possible, so people would trust and underestimate her. Everyone knew she was a genius, able to remember anything she read, but hardly anyone ever suspected her of other, more lethal skills. As leader of The Guild though, most assumed she had to be at least a little bit dangerous.

The Guild, first headed by Markarov, her surrogate father, was a criminal organization that specialized in paid assassinations. The Guild only terminated those worth killing: rapists, child molesters, crooked cops, evil politicians, drug kingpins, and corrupt business dealers. Anyone who preyed on the weak, the poor, or the innocent were all targets of The Guild.

Levy was aware her organization was somewhat hypocritical. Where did a bunch of murderers get off telling others what was moral? She and Markarov had spent many nights discussing it. They were vigilantes, and they were gods. They used their own judgment and ended lives. Levy honestly had no qualms about her role in the world; she was a necessary evil in an evil world. They weren't superheroes. This was real life, and justice had to be dealt with in a real way. She was doing society a service, and all she asked in return is a lot of money and discretion.

A proximity alert went up on the surveillance screen that was monitoring the front door. She looked at Droy.

"It's him," he confirmed. She nodded. She turned off the light on the desk to shadow her face but kept the other lights in the all-glass room on. She always obscured her face initially in meetings for intimidation purposes. Jet and Droy left the screens and stood next to her, arms crossed.

The elevator dinged and out walked the man called the Iron Dragon. Of course, that was the name he used in the underground to make himself seem threatening, but Levy wasn't intimidated by him at all. He was a thief, an enforcer, and a mercenary, one of the best. She had tried to make contact with him to join The Guild years ago, but he had turned her down, telling her he worked alone. For him to come to her now probably meant he was in serious trouble.

He stepped into the light in front of her desk. He had his piercings on his face and arms, which were numerous but subtle, like they had just grown out of his skin one day. He was a well-built man, muscular and probably a foot taller than she was. His black hair was long and unkempt, sticking out at all kinds of crazy angles. He radiated danger. Involuntarily she found herself raking her eyes over his body. That tight, black, sleeveless shirt he wore was not doing her any favors, either. He had great arms. He had changed little since the last time she saw him.

She checked herself. This was hardly a time to be lusting over him, a man she didn't trust. It had just been a long time since she had been with anyone. It was hard to run a major criminal organization and date. There just wasn't enough time.

He continued to walk until she held up a hand. "That's far enough."

He stopped and growled. "I came here to see McGarden. How do I know she's you? You could be an impostor."

Levy stood up, her face coming into the light. Jet and Droy started to move towards her, but she held up her hand again and they stopped. She walked out in front of her desk and turned around, her back to him. "I'm sure you remember my tattoo and scar."

Her shoulder blade had the tattoo of The Guild, the wing of the avenging angel. Above the wing was the word "boss." She also had a very large scar on her other shoulder blade, a souvenir from a bombing she had gotten caught up in. He approached her and skimmed his fingers across her tattoo to make sure it was real. Her skin burned where he touched her.

"Fine," he acquiesced, then put his arm down.

She went back to her desk, her face once again shrouded in shadow. "So what can I do for you, Gajeel Redfox?"

He smirked at her. "So you finally found out my real name? How many sources did your infamous organization go through to find that out?"

She smirked back. "Just one. You know Natsu Dragneel, don't you? He's the husband of a dear friend of mine."

"You're friends with Lucy then? I should have known that pink-haired idiot would rat me out. Part of being an informant to the government I guess," he said as he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand.

"I'll ask again. Why are you here? Everyone knows the Iron Dragon works alone, and I assume you're not in need of my services. You could take care of anyone who went up against you," Levy said as she crossed her arms, once again in impatience.

He stared down at her. "I'm going up against someone I can't get to by myself and I know you can."

She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her desk and her head propped up on her fists. Her face was once again in the light. "Well, now I'm intrigued. I can get to someone the great Iron Dragon can't reach? Your humility is intoxicating."

He scowled. "Don't get cocky, shorty."

Jet and Droy had had enough. "Insult the boss again and we'll throw you off the roof!" Jet yelled. Gajeel looked unimpressed.

"It's fine. I can take his little jabs. So what's this job you can't do alone?" Levy said, defusing the situation.

"The prime minister. He needs to be dead," Gajeel replied.

"Who did that philandering bastard screw now?" she asked nonchalantly, sitting back in her chair. The prime minister's wife had come to The Guild once to get her husband taken care of, but Levy had rejected her and advised her to divorce him instead. Cheaters were not of much consequence to Levy. Usually they got their own comeuppance.

"I'm not worried about that. He's done something a lot worse this time," Gajeel explained.

"Like what? You know my services require a certain level of immorality from the targets."

"How about ordering genocide, is that immoral enough for you?"