[A/N]: I'm here to give some love to one of the most under-appreciated of all Fairy Tail pairings- BacCana. I hope to see some more writing on the two soon- they have such a great (and sexy) dynamic.
Bold= Cana's thoughts
Italics= flashbacks
Until We Meet Again
After the Grand Magic Games, Cana dwells on her close brush with death and how she was saved by someone unlikely. However, she seems to possess two different memories of the occurrence and has trouble understanding why false images are clouding her mind- until a friend reveals that nothing is false- and that both she and her savior were a whole lost closer to death than she'd thought.
The trees and building on the horizon rushed past the window of the train one by one. In the seat facing the window, a young woman with long chestnut hair and tanned skin was blankly staring at the blurred scenery with somber violet eyes. Had you seen her the previous day, or even the week before that, she'd have been unrecognizable. Though her general appearance remained the same, the trademark mischievous twinkle had faded from her gaze and her characteristic smirk had been replaced by a frown and tightly clenched jaw. Who could blame her? A close encounter with the apocalypse was enough to shake anyone up, she supposed. She was thankful things had turned out fine in the end, during the fight it didn't look like anyone would make it out alive- let alone everyone. Still, dark images had been lurking in the back of her mind- images that were nearly impossible suppress.
What the image displayed hadn't actually happened, (she had a whole other set of memories to reaffirm this,) so she'd figured it must have been a figment of her imagination. This, unfortunately, was even more unsettling. When she was sober and had time to think to herself, this same scene would replay itself in her head- toying with her sense of reality, causing her to shake her head in frustration as if it would actually rid her of her dilemma.
I dropped my cards, but there's a dragon hatchling headed right for me. Blood. Blood everywhere. But it isn't my blood… It should be my blood… but it's his.
Her simple solution to the problem was the same that many a depressed businessman resorted to- booze. Barrels and barrels of it. She was a heavy drinker as it was, so this behavior did not alarm any of her friends and colleagues. When inebriated, she was as happy-go-lucky as ever. Even encountering the man from her nightmare had little effect on her. The corner of her lips twitched and her brows knit into a confused and forlorn expression for not even a second before she managed to regain her composure.
It didn't happen. I mean if it had happened, he wouldn't be here right now. He wouldn't be alive, right?
Nursing her beer, the man approached her. He took a seat next to her, his cheeks crimson with the flush of alcohol.
"Cana! Want to test your strength?" Bacchus challenged, holding up his frothing glass.
"Sure! I won't lose this time!" She eagerly accepted his proposition, pushing her nightmare into the deepest recesses of her mind and out of her conscious thought. They toasted their glasses before throwing back mug after mug and glass after glass of each and every alcoholic beverage they could lay their hands on.
Nothing like a little competition to get your mind off of your troubles, right?
When they'd drunk their share and the walls began to spin before her eyes, the contest ended and Bacchus declared himself winner for the second time in a row. Despite her loss, Cana retained some of her dignity this time by remaining fully clothed and forfeiting before her vision went black.
Pulling a flask out of her usual fluffy blue purse, she smirked and realized that she hadn't been sober since then. She'd spent every waking moment since that night drinking. She wasn't sure where the line between pleasure and sedation had become blurred since the next week had been filled with nothing but celebration. All she could remember was when her party abruptly ended.
"Graaaay! Why the long face? Loosen up- have some sake for gods' sake!" she slurred, draping her arm over her surprisingly fully-clothed comrade who was sitting at the bar.
"I just have a lot on my mind Cana. I almost, well, technically I did die you know." He retorted coldly.
His response would have been confusing enough if she were sober. After shots and sixty-two ounces of beer, all before noon, she didn't stand a chance.
"Whaddya mean? I'm leanin on ya! I can't lean on the First! She's a ghost! You're not a ghost! You are aliiiiiiive! So start actin like it!" she threw back the remaining contents of her martini glass, belched, and called out, "Mira! Hit me again!"
"Sorry Cana, but we have to cut you off for a little while if we want to have any hope of serving everyone at tonight's open mic session. Gajeel is performing again…"
The card mage groaned before grabbing the seat next to Gray and slouching over the counter. She wasn't sure if she had fallen asleep, but couldn't discern how long it had been before she finally lifted her head again. All she knew was that her buzz was wearing off and that she needed to convince Mirajane to hit her with a rum on the rocks so she could stop that, ASAP.
"I shouldn't be here right now." Gray mumbled to himself.
"Well if you think about it, none of us really should be after that whole fiasco." She replied.
"I thought you were asleep." Gray leered.
"Well, I probably was, but now I'm not. Point is, stop brooding over it. Be thankful we all made it out alive and relatively well."
"Not all of us." His fist clenched and Cana could have sworn she saw tears forming in his eyes if he hadn't turned away from her upon saying it.
"Well then who was it that got hurt? According to the authorities there was no casualties- only excessive property damage, which is how we roll anyways so-"
"Someone sacrificed themselves to give us this happy ending- A very skilled mage who I had close ties with. She exchanged her time to rewind ours. I very literally should have died, Cana. I don't think you understand that. I was dead. She rewound time. But I still have my memories and I can see my death reoccurring over and over and over in my mind. But you wouldn't know anything about that feeling now would you?"
His voice was pained, and luckily he didn't seem to expect a response from Cana because he didn't react in the slightest when she excused herself from the bar and staggered back to her room at Fairy Hills.
So it did happen? He should be dead right now? He should be dead… because of me?
Next thing she knew, she was here, on the next train out of Magnolia on her way to an unfamiliar town two hours away. Lucy and Mira, maybe even Levy and Erza would question where she was that night. Gray would still be sulking, but Cana… well to be perfectly honest she didn't really know what she'd be doing. Like most of her antics, this trip was spur of the moment and prompted by feeling rather than rational thought. What was she even doing? Was she thanking him? Apologizing?
Oh, thanks for dying, but not dying, and saving, but not really saving my life? And sorry for getting you killed and almost getting you not … killed?
She let out a deep sigh. Half of it was for her confusion while the rest was a result of trying to finish off the rest of her flask only to find it bone-dry. She lost herself in thought again, trying to play out the scenario in her head. They all ended in awkward confusion and her leaving behind with the legacy of being a total psychopath. The train stopped with a jolt, and despite her weariness from travel she shot up upon the realization that this was her stop. The second Cana stepped foot out of the train, her heart began to race. She took out her deck of cards and applied a little of her magic to one that in turn displayed a map of the town. She took slow lumbering steps, or maybe they just seemed to be that way in her mind, as the sun didn't appear to be sinking any lower on the horizon no matter how long her walk seemed to take. Winding through cobblestone streets and up over a hill, she found what she'd been looking for- the Quatro Cerberus Wizard's guild.
She gently approached the building and stood tall, doing her best to fake her usual grin for the sake of the friends she might encounter. Sure enough, the one to answer the door for her was none other than Rocker.
"C-Cana! What are you doing here?" he stuttered.
She couldn't help but smirk, remembering the obvious puppy-dog crush he'd developed on her during the Grand Magic Games.
"I'm here to talk to Bacchus! He never did give me my top back, and I was on my way back from a mission in a nearby town so I figured I'd stop by to take back what's mine!" She hated lying to him, but she was too proud to admit she'd made this trip specifically to see the Drunken Falcon, and that her top was actually the last thing on her mind.
"Ahh Bacchus actually doesn't live in the hall with the rest of us," Goldmine interrupted, "with his S-class wages he's able to afford something a little closer to the bar scene and the town's brewery. He's actually gone home for the day, but if you promise to beat him up and give us all something to laugh about I'd be more than willing to tell you where he resides."
"Of course, sir! I'll make sure he doesn't make it out without a scar!" She grimaced in her own mind at the irony of that, since being told he had actually died would be more than enough to scar any man- emotionally at least.
Goldmine gave her the address and she again pulled out her map card and went on her way.
At least I don't need to go through the embarrassment of asking to speak to him alone.
This stroll only took her about ten minutes, the sun now casting a golden light over the quaint town. She stood at the steps of a ritzy looking townhome that was less than a block away from a cluster of noisy bars, and where the air smelled of hops and fermenting grains. Yep. The brewery was definitely nearby. After double and then triple checking the address Goldmine had written down, she approached the door and gave two timid knocks- each of which seemed to reverberate at ten times their usual noise level. She waited for what seemed to be fifteen minutes before she heard the handle turn. She gave a deep gulp and braced herself. She still wasn't ready when Bacchus answered the door. His armor was gone, and his jet-black hair fell gently to his shoulders- a stark contrast to his usual harsh updo. The shock was apparent in his crimson eyes, though he played it off well.
"Cana! Are you here for round three? Or maybe you've come to retrieve your top?" He gestured for her to come in, closing the door behind her. "Listen, doll, I know I'm not much of a gentleman but if you really wanted your top back all you had to do was-"
*click*
The door shut. And Cana, without stopping to think for a second lunged at him and captured his lips with her own, rendering him unable to finish the sentence. He tasted of whiskey and salt, but quickly realized the salt had come from her own tears. When had she started crying? She couldn't tell. All she knew was that her she was, kissing a man she barely knew for gods' know what reason, completely sober- and feeling not an ounce of regret.
She sighed into his mouth when he began to kiss her back, and chills shot down her spine. She timidly broke away before her body began wracking with sobs. She cried into his bare chest and cursed herself for being so vulnerable in front of the man who knew no pain. Once she calmed herself down, she looked up and discovered Bachhus's flustered expression.
"Uh, I mean I've always been told I'm a good kisser. Sorry to disappoint?" He offered.
"It's not that, you idiot! Don't you remember?"
His expression grew more confused.
"The dragons. I shouldn't be alive right now… you… you especially shouldn't be alive right now!"
"Listen I know this whole thing has been scary and frustrating... but I don't have a fucking clue what you're getting at."
By now she had backed away a little bit and dried her eyes with her sleeved before sitting down on the fluffy couch a few strides away.
"I know I probably sound crazy right now. This whole thing is crazy, after all. But… a friend of mine let me in on a little secret… we're living on borrowed time."
Still confused as ever, Bacchus took a seat next to her. After a small awkward silence, Cana continued.
"What I mean to say is... well... there was a mage there during the battle who could turn back time a little bit, yet we still hold the memories of what would have happened… and I keep seeing you dying in my head… and I'm starting to think that wasn't just a bad dream. Don't you remember anything like that?"
His eyes were wide, but understanding.
"So you mean to tell me, I died and came back to life? That's crazy."
She grew frustrated and raised her voice, tears forming in her eyes as she clenched her fists.
"I know it is! But all I remember was me dropping my cards and then you jumped in the way… and there was blood everywhere and..." She buried her face in her hands, "and the part where you jumped in front of me isn't an overlapping memory! Half of me thinks you died after you protected me and the other half remembers seeing you block the attack. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you! It's my fault you almost died!" she began to sob again.
After waiting for her to calm down a little bit, Bacchus replied. "It is crazy…" he began, "but it makes sense. I guess that wasn't really a nightmare I've been having for the past week after all."
She lifted her face and dried her tears on her sleeve again.
"I'm sorry." She said quietly, averting his eyes, "I'm sorry I almost got you killed."
Bacchus cupped her chin with his hand and looked her straight in the eyes with an uncharacteristically soft gaze.
"Listen, I've done a lot of dumb things, and protecting you isn't one of them. It's useless wondering about what almost or could have happened since we made it out alive don't you think? Instead of apologizing, you should just be thanking me!" He let go of her face and gave her a wide lopsided grin while lying back with his arms lounging around the top and back of the couch.
Cana smiled a genuine smile for the first time in days, a gentle blush creeping on her cheeks, and jokingly punched him in the side. Even chuckling a little bit though her eyes were still puffy from crying.
"Fine then." She paused, "Thank you, Bacchus, for saving my life." She drawled.
He reached for a bottle of sake on the table and took a swig.
"Hey! You're not going to offer your guest any?"
"Doll, If you expect me to process what you just told me while sober you have another thing coming."
She snatched the bottle from him and took a long swig herself.
"You're not the only one who needs alcohol right now."
"Is that a challenge?" he snorted
"Round three." she replied, "and this time, I'm really going to win."
Bacchus cracked his knuckles and walked straight across the room to a dark wooden cabinet which, when opened, displayed a wide array of different whiskeys and vodkas and moonshines.
"So you're busting out the big guns I see. Why? You scared?" she teased.
He was walking back to the couch with three bottles and two shot glasses.
"Considering our current record? Not in the slightest. But today's events call for the strong stuff."
The two shot glasses were filled with an amber liquid, he handed her one.
"Well here's to emotional trauma."
*Clink*
The spiced rum burned her throat and she tingled at the familiar sensation. In between shots the pair nibbled on chips, and made idle conversation about their favorite stories- most of which included them outdrinking some poor sucker who was unfortunate enough to not know of their reputation. Both managed to momentarily forget their troubles- one of the many reasons they both loved alcohol. They emptied the contents of one bottle, then two, then more- losing count once they got past their ninth shot.
"What is this? Number eleven?" Bacchus slurred as they prepared to move on to the next round of shots. He was still well within his personal limits, but the flush of the alcohol had rendered his cheeks a rosy pink.
"Nah, its gotta be ten. Eleven is usually when I start to feel it but we're not there yet."
Her cheeks were also a bright pink by now, and she looked over and realized just how late it was. The clock on the wall read midnight.
"Something wrong, babe?" Bacchus questioned.
"Well, it looks like I just missed the last train home," she stood up, "are there any inns nearby that are open this late?"
"Don't be ridiculous, you're staying here tonight! We haven't finished round three yet and I've got room to spare."
She paused, raising a brow at him, but figured she probably didn't have enough Jewel in her purse to cover anything more than a sketchy motel for the night anyway.
"Fine," she sighed, "But I think we're gonna have to postpone round three. I have to be on the first train out of here tomorrow so my guild doesn't worry. None of them know I'm here even if they probably realized I'm not in Magnolia"
"Ahh, you're no fun." he teased
"You know that's not true. So where's this 'extra room' you've got?" She rolled her eyes and looked around. This floor of the townhome seemed to have only a kitchen and living room, so all the bedrooms must be upstairs with the bathrooms.
"You seem to have misunderstood me." Bacchus grinned mischievously, "I said I have 'room to spare,' not an extra room."
Cana rolled her eyes, "Don't tell me…"
"Don't worry! I've got the couch for tonight... unless you're willing to share..." This comment earned him a swift punch to the arm, "Fine, fine. You can have it all to yourself, Cana."
"I'm not going to make you give up your own bed! I'll sleep on the couch!" she protested.
"Tough luck. It's been decided. Now follow me."
Bacchus had put the bottles away and was now ascending a flight of stairs with Cana tagging close behind. She blamed the alcohol for her newfound interest in his back, studying the ripple of each taut muscle as she followed him.
They entered a dimly lit room that followed a red black and gold color scheme. The furniture was modern, and surprisingly chic. Bacchus sat on his bed.
"And this is where the magic happens."
This provoked an eye roll and chuckle from Cana, which in turn made Bacchus's grin a little wider.
He got up to leave.
"Bathroom's down the hall if you need it, You know where I'll be if you need me."
He passed her on his way out the door, but she grabbed his wrist before he left.
"Why?" she looked at the hand clutching his wrist.
"Why, what?" He asked in return.
"Why did you protect me?"
He had almost forgotten why she was here in the first place. He'd almost forgotten how she'd lunged at him, forgotten how she'd cried, and he scrambled for words, failing miserably.
"It would have been easier to let me fend for myself. I probably could have blasted the thing with Fairy Glitter but you just jumped in front of me… why?"
He cleared his throat.
"I didn't really think about it at the time. It was almost instinctive for me to protect you. But hey, I thought we moved past this for now! Don't let the 'almost' drag you down. 'Almost' doesn't count. Just like you 'almost' beat me in a drinking contest doesn't count."
He expected a grin from her, hoping to once again lift her spirits by poking fun at her.
And once again, Cana did stop to think before lunging at his lips.
How can such an ass be such a great guy?
His hands slid down her back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake while hers tangled themselves in his straight black hair. He picked her up and she immediately wrapped her legs around his waist, reveling in how well their bodies seemed to fit together. He sat down on the edge of his bed, her legs straddling his waist when her tongue demanded entrance into his mouth. Her lips were soft and sweet on his, though he could detect a notable hint of spice from the rum they'd shared earlier. Her hands moved from his hair to his chest and she could help but smile as she thought about how much she'd always admired a man with nice pecs. Emboldened, she shoved him down so he was now laying on the bed and straddled his hips yet again, pulling her hair out of its high ponytail. Cana leaned down and left a trail of flaming kisses on his neck, making sure to leave a deep purple mark.
Breathlessly, she whispered, "Thank you." In his ear.
He took the opportunity to seize control, flipping them both over so she was underneath him. He kissed her collarbone tantalizingly slow.
"If this is how you always thank people, I might have to start doing you more favors."
He said. His voice was low and gravelly… seductive. He looked her in the eyes, crimson orbs clouded with lust. Tentatively, he ran his hand down one side of her body, grinning with pride when he saw how she shivered at his every touch. She was embarrassed of herself for the thoughts she was having, about how she wished to be closer to him, how she wanted to feel him. She thought about how well his name suited him, because right now (at least in her eyes,) he was a god in his own right. Her eyes scanned his body and her hands followed, feeling every nook and cranny of his sculpted abs before grabbing the sides of his face and pulling him closer for a heated kiss that left them both gasping for breath, but didn't stop them from latching lips yet again. She felt a hand snake up her waist to where her white shirt was tied, right under her breasts. Before she had enough time to react, the article had already been untied and thrown to the floor.
Right. He uses palm magic. He's good with his hands.
She reached down and unbuckled her own belt and tugged at the sash holding up his loose pants- anything to get closer to the skin-on-skin contact she was longing for. Her wishes were soon fulfilled as both garments fell softly to the floor and she was able to tangle her legs in his. His hands continued exploring every curve of her body, one finally settling itself on her breast while the other one kept him hovering above her. He kneaded it gently, eliciting a soft moan from her lips and an involuntary roll of her hips. She had thrust her head back and he took his chance to nip gently at the soft flesh of her neck. Again, she needily rolled her hips, seeking out a source of friction that her core was aching for. She grabbed the sheets beneath her tightly as the hand that had been on her breast ghosted its way down her stomach and in between her thighs. She let out a louder moan, this time in anticipation.
Palm magic. Good with his hands.
"Ohhhh. So this is what you want?" he cooed, gently running his thumb over her upper inner thigh, tugging on the lacy waistband of her undergarment.
She bit her lip to stifle another moan that threatened to escape her lips, but was unable to stop herself from grinding her hips forward. Bacchus smiled, knowing that he was about to drive her absolutely insane with pleasure. Slowly, one, two, three fingers began to gently rub he center through the thin cloth of her underwear. She could no longer suppress herself as she let out a sharp cry of pleasure, panting his name under her breath, prompting him to rub more vigorously, and her to moan even louder.
"Just take them off!" she yelled.
And again, her wish was his command as lace joined the other fabrics littering the floor. Her bra was also tossed aside, leaving her completely nude underneath him.
"You really are wild." He whispered in her ear with the same gravelly voice that had so enticed her earlier. He continued to rub her core, eventually slipping two digits inside of her, pumping in and out rapidly. Her breath hitched and her mind went blank, not suspecting that his mouth was making its way down until she felt a kiss that sent her reeling. Her fingers tangled in his hair, legs slung over his shoulders, and back arched as he began to kiss, lick, and suck on her folds. She moaned his name over and over until he suddenly stopped, returning to her face to give her another peck on the lips. She could taste herself on his lips. Mustering all the control she had, she flipped them both over, and for the third time, placed herself perfectly over his hips.
He looked up at her in awe. Her violet eyes were half-lidded and glazed over, her dark hair was tousled and reached down to the middle of her back, framing her face perfectly- cheeks flushed a perfect rosy pink. Her lips were full and ever so slightly parted, while her whole body glistened with sweat. She was an absolute vision, and it was her turn to drive him crazy. She moved her hips against his and smirked when she earned a groan from him. She could feel him grow hard underneath her as she continued to roll her hips onto him. She grazed her hands over his boxers, giggling at finding they were covered in pandas. How she hadn't noticed before was beyond her. She coaxed the waistband down, until there was nothing separating skin from skin. She rubbed herself against his length, which was a mistake if she wished to remain in control of the situation, because she completely melted at the contact. Her muscles went weak and it was at this point that completely relinquished her entire self to him. He sat up so that she was sitting in his lap before slipping inside of her as she wound up underneath him once more. He pumped in and out of her, slowly at first, then faster, and harder. She latched her nails into his back and cried out in ecstasy as she felt her release approaching. They dug in deeper and deeper the closer she got to the edge. It wouldn't have surprised her if she'd drawn blood, but Bacchus didn't seem to mind in the least, as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear between his euphoric groans.
"You're gorgeous…ahh… you feel so good…" but she couldn't be bothered to hear a word he said as she felt her body tense and clench around him drawing nearer and nearer to completion. The duo was sent over the edge as they rode out their climax in a messy tangle of limbs, Cana screaming in pleasure, and Bacchus moaning into the crook of her neck. Her body went limp and he collapsed beside her, pulling her close and continuing to kiss her neck, leaving bruises akin to the ones she'd given him earlier. Wordlessly, she fell asleep in his arms.
Bacchus woke when sunlight began creeping through the cracks in his blinds, finding himself shocked yet pleased that the card mage was still sound asleep with her head on his chest. He sat as still as possible for a few moments before the beauty began to stir, gazing up at him with tired eyes.
"Goodmorning sunshine." He said
Cana responded by smacking him in the face with a pillow and laughing.
As she climbed out of his bed and gathered her clothes, he wolf whistled at her. This time, it was his pants that hit him in the face, and she nearly doubled over with laughter.
"So, Cana. When are you going to be up for round two?" he questioned as he stood and approached her
"Don't you mean round three?" she replied, before her eyes widened in realization, "Ohhhh." She drawled, "Well, considering you saving my life is what prompted this whole thing, it's going to be hard to one up this and make it to the next level." He took one of her hands in his own and kissed it tenderly before grabbing her waist and replying.
"Is that so? Well I'll just have to think of something grand I suppose."
Which implied that he was planning on seeing her again. This whole thing felt new to her. Most of her drunken hookups involved her sneaking out before her counterpart awoke, and as shocking as it was, none of her boyfriends had been as charming as the man who stood before her now- the same man who had stolen her top and humiliated her. The two were now fully clothed again, or at least as clothed as they'd been upon Cana's arrival the previous night.
Looking down at him as they both descended the flight of stairs, she said, "I'm sure you'll think of something." He turned to face her from ground level, as she was still on the last step and replied slowly, leaning towards her ever so slightly, "I'm… sure… I… will… too…" he kissed her softly, leaving her with butterflies in her stomach as her eyes fluttered closed and a slight pink tint appeared on her face.
She smiled into his lips, breaking away to retort, "Okay hot-shot. Just make sure you keep those hickies and scratches covered up, will ya?"
"Why would I want to hide my latest trophy from my men?" he chuckled, holding her delicate hand in his own and walking her to the door.
"Because I told them I was here to get my top back, and if Goldmine sees, he'll tell Makarov, and my dad will find out." She said flatly.
"Oh so you're scared daddy won't like me?" he questioned teasingly
"I'm not scared, but you should be." Cana chuckled.
"And why is that?" he laughed
"Because my father is Gildarts Clive."
They had reached the door, and Cana found that Bacchus had abruptly frozen with a wide-eyed expression on his face. It was impossible not to laugh out loud at his obvious fright. Rolling her eyes, she left him with a kiss on the cheek.
"Until we meet again!"
Fin