Disclaimer: Hiro Mashima owns Fairy Tail
I am the receptionist.
That is all people will ever need to know about me. I answer phone calls, file papers, serve coffee, check people in. That is what I do. That is my Job.
This. This is Justine Enterprise. 115 floors. 2,000 office cubicles. 20 receptionists to wait on you hand and foot. One gigantic ballroom, and a doorman to shine your shoes just before you walk in. This, among other commodities.
I take it you think it's quite a nice place.
Well it is, if you were Freed Justine, the jackass who ran the whole place. Long green hair, murky blue eyes, and a silver tongue in a mouth like honey. But pretty much all that guy did with his mouth was tell people to bring men to his office so he could blow them off.
One gorgeous office building. One asshole boss. But now we travel downstairs, to the servants' quarters where the plebeians dwell…
"Cana, if I have to tell you one more time not to drink in the office, I swear I will screw your boyfriend," I threatened to the woman seated next to me.
The woman in question didn't so much as move or acknowledge me. Her brown hair was fanned out in waves all over her desk and she was nuzzling a bottle of vodka to her totally indecently exposed chest. Her head was smashed into the keyboard and I watched with growing annoyance as a little line of "L's" crept across the still-blank document on her desktop.
If she thought I was going to type up all this shit that Freed sent down by myself, I really was going to screw her boyfriend.
"Cana!"
I yanked her backwards by the shoulders and dumped both woman and chair onto the linoleum floor with a satisfying crack.
"Ow! Owowow! What the hell!" she slurred.
"You have 2 seconds to get rid of that vodka, and 3 seconds to start typing up that client list," I said tightly.
She blinked up at me blearily and proceeded to fall into a fit of laughter. "S-sorry, everything is just so much funnier when I'm drunk, Luushy!"
I felt my right eye twitch in annoyance.
Welcome to Floor 1, realm of the bottom feeders. 20 receptionists, but we should all probably consider becoming hookers because the pay sucks like one. That Freed jerk-off probably spends the missing portion of my salary to hire people to pick his teeth.
"So what's got you so upset today?" Cana giggled, repositioning herself into her chair and sweeping her long hair back into a neat bun, expertly sliding in a pen to hold it in place and running a finger under each eye to sharpen her makeup.
"It's this," I groaned, holding up the thick packet of hand-written notes, the bane of my existence. "Antennae-ears wants it typed up in, oh-" I checked my watch, "-forty-two minutes, and I can't read half of it."
"Damn. You better get a move on."
"We," I corrected. "Why don't you take the client schedule and I'll type up Freed's notes?"
"Sounds like a plan."
We worked diligently for 15 minutes. At 20, I could tell Cana was getting bored. The 25 minute mark was when things got out of control.
"Psst. Lucy. Lu-cy!" Cana hissed, jabbing a pen painfully into my shoulder.
I was in the middle of typing a list of Arabic business partners, and all those hyphens were getting really frustrating.
"Cana, you do realize that we only have fifteen minutes left until-"
"I know, I know, but Lucy, if you don't look now, I'm telling you: you will regret it for the rest of your life."
Okay, that got my attention. Cana's fortune-telling skills were freakily psychic at times. I hit "enter."
"Okay, now what is it?" I demanded.
"Look there!" she squealed, thrusting out her finger to point at the gentleman that had just walked in through the swinging glass doors.
I glanced up.
Woah. I had this vague sense that I looked like a huge creep just checking this guy out as he crossed the foyer of Justine Enterprise, but to tell you the truth, you would have to have been a serious lesbian not to, and maybe not even then. He had a magnetic aura and this addictive confidence, like God himself had told him the meaning of life and had offered a complementary backstage tour. I couldn't look away. Mavis help me.
Of course, as soon as that thought bloomed in my mind, I shut it down, because I was at work, for God's sake. And there was nothing I prided myself in more than my professionalism at work.
"By God," Cana said, blinking rapidly, "I- I think he's raping my eyes!"
"Shh, he's coming this way!" I whispered.
He strode over to our reception desk with an air of arrogance and entitlement, like a dark Jay Gatsby. He could have practically walked off the pages of a fairy tale.
"Hello. I've an appointment with Mr. Freed Justine at two o'clock," he said, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It was so odd. Looking at his face up close, it was like the bottom half of his face didn't match with the top. His jaw was angled and masculine, but his eyes were boyish. Odd.
But attractive.
I kicked myself.
Cana recovered first, and filled the awkward silence by saying, "Yes, of course. And your name is?"
"Gray Fullbuster."
She hummed thoughtfully, and tapped away at the keyboard. I watched as she opened her web browser and began to type in his name.
On Facebook.
I threw a pen at her head in what I hoped was a discreet manner.
"Right, and your date of birth please? Just for conformation," I said quickly, taking up the responsibility that Cana obviously lacked. I opened up Freed's schedule on my computer and scrolled down to today.
He told me his date of birth in that same velvety, dark voice.
"Alright, Mr. Fullbuster. I'll just let Mr. Justine know that you're here and he should be down shortly."
"Excellent." He gave a curt nod and strode with that self-assured gait over to one of the sofas sitting in the foyer of the building, pulling out his phone to check what I assumed were other business inquiries. Cana chose this moment to come back from the red light district of her mind.
"This guy is such a Casanova," she giggled, "putting his real age on Facebook. I mean, who does this?!"
"Probably everybody but you," I grumped, getting back to that list of Arabic names. At this point, all of Cana's functioning motor skills apparently shut down because she set down the client list and placed her chin in her hands and sighed dreamily.
"I'd go for him, but he's too young for me. I'd go for anyone who had that many pheromones leaking off of him, and was successful to boot. Wouldn't it be nice to marry a guy like that? You'd never have to work another day in your life."
"Uh-huh," I affirmed absently, not bothering to remind her that she already had a boyfriend. Now what did this word say? "Justice?" "Justine?" Or maybe it said "changed." Freed really needed to slow down when he wrote. Suddenly I noticed it was too quiet in our little reception area. My eyes darted over to Cana. She was staring at me imploringly.
"Well, go offer him a drink!" she exclaimed.
"What?! No! That's Evergreen's job."
"You and I both know she's going to poison him to paralysis with all that shit she whips up in the employee lounge. Besides, he keeps looking at you."
At that moment, I made the mistake of taking a peek upwards, and my eyes locked dead in on his. They were a steely, gunmetal blue but seemed darker because of the way his hair fell into them. I had the strange sensation that a silent battle was taking place, but he was keeping me guessing at exactly what. And what was that inviting quirk of his eyebrow? I felt a shiver run up my spine.
"Holy shit," I said, and abruptly scrunched my head down so I hid behind the computer screen. This guy's gorgeous looks were dangerously swaying me from the realm of professionalism into the realm of Come Take Me!. It was like watching a gory murder movie. I knew that later I wouldn't be able to sleep at night, but for the life of me, I couldn't tear my eyes away. It was too fascinatingly horrible.
I felt myself getting swept up in the moment, and just like that, I stopped myself. This is just business to me. And between the hours of 9 to 5, I was Lady Hardliner. I could make a copy of all business records, compile a list of Freed's appointments, answer and direct all phone calls, fax all financial documents, personally escort clients up to their destinations, and still have time to have a coffee break at noon.
This guy was roasted meat when it came to my efficiency at work. (But not my professionalism, as I was about to find out.)
I abruptly stood up, and began to march over to Gray Fullbuster, but Cana caught the sleeve of my suit.
"What are you doing?!" she whispered fiercely.
"Listening to your advice. I'm going to go offer that asshole a drink."
"But you never listen to my advice!"
"Then I suppose there's a first time for everything. Type up those papers while I'm gone. They're due in ten minutes."
Cana stared at me wonderingly. "I love it when you get bossy," she said wickedly. "It's so sexy. And I've got you covered, babe. I get can get this shit typed up in seven minutes flat, with some help from my little friend."
She dug around in her cleavage for a small flask of a clear, green liquid and downed it in one swig. After sitting still for a few seconds for the absinthe to set in, her eyes flashed open and she jabbed away at the keyboard so furiously that is sounded like the hum of raindrops on a sidewalk. I really should remind her not to drink in the office anymore or else I might lose my job.
I strode over to where Gray Fullbuster sat. His eyes stayed shamelessly trained on me as I approached him. I placed a hand on my hip and glared at him.
"Hey you. I'd offer to get you some water or coffee, but then again, I'm not a waitress. You don't try to catch my eye, and I don't come over and ask you if you want water or a soft drink. That's not how it works. Are we clear?"
He looked quite startled. I could tell from the way his eyebrows, set low on his forehead, suddenly shot up towards his hairline.
"Was I staring at you? Sorry about that," he said, seeming surprised. "People tend to tell me that I get so lost in thought, I forget where I'm looking. Jesus, that was probably really impolite. Please accept my sincerest apologies if I offended you, Miss."
Kill me now.
"R-right," I stammered after a pause, suddenly thrown off. "It's quite alright. Right."
Right. The word echoed in my head as I mentally jumped off a cliff. I haltingly rotated ninety degrees and robotically walked back to the reception desk.
"Well?" Cana questioned gleefully.
"He said no, right after I wrestled my dignity to the ground and ripped off its appendages," I said, and sat squarely on my chair about to type when I realized that Cana had finished the last of the notes. 10 pages, I noted with approval. Cana was about to say something, but I cut her off with, "Freed will be down any minute now, so you can give him the papers once he's here."
As though on cue, the elevator opened with a ding! and Freed Justine stepped out in all of his self-proclaimed glory. He was sporting a new navy blue suit, and even from a distance I could tell he'd had it custom-measured down the last micrometer. His long hair was pulled back into a low, business-like ponytail and I almost thought he didn't look like an asshole. It was amazing.
"Gray! We spoke on the phone. What a pleasure to meet you in real life. Why don't you come on up and we can talk business?"
"Freed, the pleasure is all mine. You're looking sharp in that suit. I myself just wear whatever my personal shopper says looks best."
They shared The Laugh of the Rich and Freed fell into step with Gray Fullbuster. Together, they chatted their way to the elevator, where they disappeared behind its closing doors. Immediately, Cana turned to me.
"Girl, you better get on your knees and pray to the heavens almighty that Gray is decidedly straight, because he is a dish and Freed is rubbing his homosexual tendencies all over that boy. Damn!"
Thinking about Gray Fullbuster again just made me want to crawl into a hole and die.
"Cana, he's just another businessman here to talk business with Freed. We see dozens of them every day. What makes him so special?"
"I don't know, but my tarot cards tell me that he's very important. Very important indeed."
I rolled my eyes at her Madame Fortune talk, and instead picked up one of the standard black staplers sitting on my desk, and with a satisfying click, neatly secured all of the typed papers together. "Cana, because you were irresponsible and came to the office late today due to the fact that you got hung over yesterday, it is now your responsibility to bring these up to Freed."
Cana looked into my eyes searchingly, and I hoped she couldn't detect the blush of embarrassment that was probably still coloring my cheeks. For a moment I feared she might push the topic of what had happened to my dignity further, but she sighed and did as she was told without protest. Not, of course, before cheekily winking at me and saying, "I'll see what I can do for you!"
"Natsu? I don't think I can do this anymore," Lisanna said.
Natsu, however, was too busy yelling "Fight! Fight! Fight!" and egging on his drunk friends at the bar to notice his girlfriend's light voice.
"Natsu? Natsu!" she yelled into his ear.
"Alright, alright. Jeez, keep it down. What's up?" he said, stepping away from the crowd.
"I don't think I can do this anymore," she repeated, eyes gentle but firm.
"'Kay. I'll see you back at the hotel."
"No, I mean, this," she emphasized, gesturing between them. "You're too wild, and…and crazy these days. Everything about you is too different from the kid I fell in love with all those years ago. Ever since this music gig started, all this partying – it's completely out of control."
"Wait, what?" Natsu's face drained of color.
"I miss the Natsu that could be kind of shy and innocent. You're… not really that person anymore."
"Well, yeah. I've grown up. I'm becoming famous and actually making money, but that doesn't mean I love you any less. You just can't expect me to change back into somebody that I'm not anymore."
"I know! I know that. That's why I'm not asking you to change; I'm just asking you to let this go."
Apologies to those of you who ship Natsu and Lucy like it is life... but Lucy had to meet Gray first in order for this to pan out correctly :P
And for those of you who dislike Natsu x Lisanna... here she is breaking his heart, I guess? (You evil, evil people. Those I guess that makes me evil too lol.)