"Excuse me, I'm here to see a Mr. Dreyer?"

Levy brushed a shaking hand down the front of her floral print dress and tried her best to look like a capable and confident adult who answered strange lawyer's summons every day of the week. It certainly seemed a better presentation than the reality; an intimidated 19 year old orphan whose closest friends were books.

The platinum blonde receptionist looked up, "Ah, you must be Miss McGarden. Macarov's 8:00."

Levy momentarily lost her ability for speech when the woman graced her with a dazzling smile. Goodness gracious, it looked as if the beauty before her dropped right out of a high end fashion magazine. Levy glanced at the nametag on the woman's pristine white blouse. Mira. She wondered if anyone ever bothered to inform Mira she should be walking a catwalk at New York Fashion Week rather than manning the front desk of a tiny lawyer's office in the even tinier town of Magnolia. Not a hair was out of place, a thread akimbo, or a makeup flaw apparent on the radiant woman. Levy reached up and ran her fingers through her own unruly mop of azure curls before she could stop herself. So much for the confidence thing she'd been going for.

"Y…Yes! That's me. I'm Levy….errr, Miss Mcgarden I mean." She hesitated, but then decided to be brave, "I have to ask, do you know why Mr Dreyer called me here?" Levy had not been back to Magnolia since she was a child, so when she received the letter from the town she'd been absolutely flummoxed.

The receptionist's smile grew even brighter. "You're white as a sheet, shame on that old coot for being so vague in his letter. " She tsked, "I'm sorry to say I don't know the specifics of your visit, but I assure you that the business Macarov called you here for is nothing to fret over." Levy let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, gratefully dismissing the images she'd conjured up in the week since Dreyer's summons; scenarios that ranged from unknown library fines when she was six to getting sued for that one time when she was 12 years old and she allegedly punched Bobbie Thompson in the nose for calling her short. Allegedly mind you.

She managed her first smile since entering the office, "That's such a relief, although I still can't imagine what a lawyer would want with me."

"Well, imagine no longer my dear! Macarov is here!"

Mira smiled and Levy jumped when a booming voice reverberated through the front room. She looked around but didn't see a soul other than Mira and herself.

"Ahem."

Brows winging in surprise, she looked down and finally rested eyes on a tiny, wrinkled old man in a vibrantly striped shirt and loose brown pants. Levy just barely kept from gaping.

Rare indeed was the day when she, Levy Mcgarden…measuring in at a whopping 5 foot nothing could claim she looked down upon anyone over the age of 12. Today was that day, and it gave her a warm fuzzy feeling that momentarily overrode her raw nerves and gave her the confidence to take his offered hand in a firm handshake.

"It's nice to meet you Mr. Dreyer."

"Bah!" Levy jumped again at the old man's booming negation, but quickly settled when he softened it with a smile. "Mr. Dreyer was my father, you can call me Macarov."

"O…Ok."

"Now then, right this way, we've business to attend!"

He bustled away to his office at a speed and spryness belying both his age and stature. Realizing she was still standing with her hand shaking air, Levy felt her face heat and cast Mira a sheepish nod before trotting after the him.

The office was modest in size and decoration. Levy's eyes instantly zeroed in on two towering bookshelves to her left. They held dozens of heavy leather-bound tomes she'd just love to take a peek at. Forcing herself to resist, she instead took her place across from Macarov, who already seated himself behind a giant mahogany desk. She barely managed to keep herself from peering beneath to see if he was sitting on a stack of some of those books of his, because frankly, it was the only way she could fathom how he managed to see over the polished wooden top. She clasped her hands in her lap instead and sat up straight, eager to finally discover what she'd been called to his office for.

Unfortunately, Macarov had other ideas. "Why don't you tell me about yourself, Miss Mcgarden."

Levy momentarily deflated, but managed to rally at his encouraging smile. "Well, I'm twenty years old. I actually lived here in Magnolia until my parents were killed in a crash when I was seven."

Macarov nodded and cast her a sympathetic smile. "I recall reading of that in the newspaper. As small as Magnolia is, I'm sorry to say I did not know your parents personally. As I recall they were both revered linguists?"

Levy smiled, remembering her mother's soft voice speaking to her in magical languages, and her father's deep timbre rumbling against her back as he read a bed time story. Over the years their faces had grown fuzzy, but not their voices, nor the memory of being loved. "Yes they were. I'm happy to say they passed their love of language and the written word on to me. I became the state's ward when they died and I think the books they left me were the only thing that kept me going for a long time."

She fiddled with her skirt and blushed, unused to talking about herself, let alone reveal such personal details to a man she'd only just met. Makarov seemed to be one of those rare souls with the ability to put one at ease almost immediately. "I kept to myself for a long while, at school and at the orphanage, but eventually, one of my teachers realized the material she was teaching was too easy for me and encouraged the orphanage to have me tested. It turns out I was a bit of a child prodigy, so from the age of 9 to 18 my life is something of a blur. Before I knew it, I had masters degree in linguistics, as well as a bachelors in archeology and several minors."

She blew a wayward curl that flopped onto her forward out of her face and sighed," I spent a year overseas doing fieldwork after that and loved every minute, but I contracted a fever a year ago and had to return to recover. It took six months before I started feeling like myself again."

She peaked at Makarov to see if she was boring him or his eyes had glazed over, but he was listening to her intently, and waited patiently for her to continue. The attention was both unnerving and comforting at the same time, it had been a long time since she'd had anyone to talk to that was genuinely interested.

" I thought about returning to fieldwork when I recovered, unfortunately the group I was working with had to fill my position when I got sick. I found myself a bit short on funds and have been working at the University of Fiore as a researcher ever since."

Levy stroked the old wood and shrugged, "The degrees I have would qualify me for teaching, but…well, between my age and height, it's difficult to get students to take me seriously, let alone convince the university to hire me for such." She hesitated to continue, but decided Makorov might actually be a person who would understand, "… it's also the same reason I haven't tried harder to get back into field work."

Makarov eyed her, nodding, "It can be difficult in any field, but particularly one of an academic nature such as yours to acknowledge that someone as young as yourself could make mighty and pertinent contributions. I imagine your vocational talents are somewhat specialized and the positions and status that comes with your work create an exceedingly competitive environment. Ambition can make people do harsh things, they can't have made your life easy. It is a pity that your peers have failed to recognize you for the brilliant young lady that I've no doubt you are."

Levy felt her face heat and shrugged, "I can understand their position, though it has been very frustrating…." She rallied and grinned, "But I'll manage, I always do." Levy hesitated, twiddling her thumbs.

Instantly picking up on her pause, Makarov raised a brow, "…I sense a but in there."

Levy huffed and puffed her cheeks, "It's just…I just turned 20 and I feel as if I've never really experienced regular, everyday life. I never had the chance to make real friends or date. I don't even know how to drive! Did you know that? What self respecting 20 year old doesn't have a drivers licence? I've never had a sleepover or…or been to a dance. I have all this knowledge in my head, and yet I feel like I don't know anything about the real world. I want an address all my own and a car and friends and to learn how to cook and to get married and…and…" Levy trailed off, at a loss and unsure how to express in words how desperate she was for stability and normalcy, and above all…family.

"Slow down my girl, you have plenty of time for all those things. Just because you have a fancy degree does not mean you've resigned yourself to a life dedicated to only that. You can choose to follow any path you wish, and if there isn't one to suit your needs, I say you bust out the old Machete and forge a path of your own! The world is yours for the taking!" Makarov was standing up on his chair by the time he'd finished delivering his words of wisdom and Levy decided the old man harbored a secret love for theatrics. His nose colored when he realized he was balancing precariously atop his chair, and he plopped down with an embarrassed chuckle.

Levy grinned, more at home with the eccentric old lawyer every minute. "You give good advice. I've just been so adrift…it's been hard to see past my own problems I suppose."

She perked and leaned forward in her chair. "I did get an offer to work for my old field site as a stateside consultant the other day. It's tempting, because it means I could work from literally anywhere. I could bring in an income and use my skills but still have time to actually experience every day life." She remembered her tiny city apartment with the single window. Aside from her books, and a couch, she didn't even have a bed or even furnishings. It was a place to live; just as the tent at her research sight was before that, a sterile college dormitory before that, and the orphanage before them all. Places to live and sleep. Nothing more and nothing less.

"I've been hesitating because I don't really have a place to truly call home and I've no idea where I'd even begin to look for one."

Makarov cackled and slapped the desk in glee, "WelI! I do believe I may have the ideal solution for you! The fates are at work, mark my words! This is the perfect Segway into why I've call you here today." Straightening, Makarov cleared his throat and adjusted a nonexistent tie at his neck and then assumed the quintessential 'serious lawyer face.' "Did you realize, Miss Mcgarden, that you had a great aunt right here in Magnolia?'

Levy felt the breath leave her body, "No. No I didn't " Family. Real, living family. Could she ever be so lucky?

Makarov nodded, "Well, you did." Levy's hopes crashed around her ears.

"DID, sir?" Makarov nodded. "Bella Anne Lee McGarden. My client right up until last week when she passed at the ripe old age of 99 and three quarters." He pulled out a drawer and withdrew a stack of paper as thick as Levy's arm. Grabbing a pair of spectacles hanging around his neck, he skimmed over the first page before placing the stack back on the desk and locking eyes with her.

"You, Miss Mcgarden, are Bell's sole heir and I am here to execute her will." He smoothed the papers before him and his eyes grew somber, "Before we get to that however, she wanted me to tell how deeply she regretted her role or rather, lack of, that led to you becoming a state's ward when your parents passed. At the time she was still bitter over an argument she had with your father. She made some rash decisions that ultimately affected where you found yourself in the world."

He sighed and tapped at the paper. "As time went on, she came to realize the implications of decision she made to let you become the state's ward and asked me to extend her sincerest apologies. I believe several years later she looked into reconnecting with you, but discovered you were already away at college and decided it best to remain in your past and keep up on your life from afar and without interference. But keep up with you she did Levy Mcgarden. Many a time Bell sat in that very chair you're in now and told me about your newest accomplishment. Frankly, in some ways I feel as if I already know you my dear."

Opening another drawer, Macarov pulled out a worn wooden picture frame and slid it across the desk. Levy leaned forward. It displayed a yellowed and time warn photograph of a giant sprawling Victorian home. In front of the home was a rather sour woman standing next to a young man and what she assumed was his wife. She held a tiny baby with big eyes and a toothless grin. Levy's breath hitched in her chest, The photograph may be black and white, but she would bet money on the fact that the baby's hair was sky blue and his eyes a warm honey brown. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, Levy knew in her gut that she was staring at a photograph of her father in his infancy.

Levy devoured the photo with greedy eyes and stroked over her fathers face with trembling fingertips.

Makarov pressed on, "I believe Bell hoped that what she's gifting you with in death will in some small way give you what she never could in life. "

Tearing her eyes from the photograph, Levy furrowed her brow, "A picture in a picture frame Mr. Dreyer?"

Macarov smiled, and came round his desk to stand beside her. He tapped on the frame with his pen, "Not quite my dear. She had something a bit more grandiose in mind." With a flourish, he produced a set of old skeleton keys on a hook and plopped them onto the desk. Nodding again at the picture, or more specifically, the Victorian house pictured within, "She's giving you a place to finally call home again after all these many years."

"Congratulation's Miss McGarden, You've just become a home owner."

Levy's brain short circuited. She couldn't be certain how long she sat there shell shocked, but it must have been quite a while because when she finally focused, Makarov was fanning her and Mira was tapping her cheeks with a cool hand and calling her name.

When she turned to Makarov, gaping, he sighed in relief. "Oh thank goodness, I was afraid I'd shocked you into a permanent state of vegetation. Are you alright my dear?"

Gulping in a much needed lungful of oxygen, Levy nodded with wide eyes. "Yes. It's…Just a lot to take in."

Makarov nodded, "That it is. But you seem to be a resilient young lady and I've no doubt you're up for the challenge!"

Mira patted her hand and straightened, "Sir, shall I get Levy's second surprise now? It just arrived a few minutes ago."

He eyed Levy for a moment longer and nodded with a grin, "May as well Mira."

"A…s…second surprise?" Levy could barely process the first and all it's implications, let alone wrap her head around the idea of a second. But it seemed Macorov was a go big or go home type of man, because her second 'surprise' was a doozy.

"Oi."

Levy turned. A towering and hulking beast of a man with shoulders spanning the breadth of the doorway frowned down at her with intense eyes of a burning crimson. He had long, wild obsidian locks that he'd haphazardly tied back from his face. He also sported a myriad of piercings on his chin, nose, ears and even eyebrows. She dragged her eyes downward to take in a worn flannel shirt with rolled up sleeves displaying tanned and muscled forearms that…dear lordy, he had piercings there too. And scars she noticed. Lots of them. He had thick leather bands on each wrist that gave way to strong, work worn hands and long fingers. She continued her perusal, taking in legs clad in faded jeans that did nothing to hide the fact that his thighs were as heavily muscled as the rest of him. It was safe to say that this man did not skip leg day. He wore big leather, shit kicker work boots, covered in what appeared to be sawdust. Holy Fiore… He was…he…

"M…Macarov?"

"Yes my dear?"

Levy took several deep breaths and stood from her chair, although she maintained a solid grip on its back as she was starting to feel lightheaded. "A…are you trying to tell me that my great aunt Bell left me a…man?!"

Said man in question lost the scowl on his face and snorted, "Gi Hi Hi. You'd be so lucky Shrimp!" He turned his back to her and picked up something from Mira who stood behind him before turning back around with the deep scowl back on his face and the hint of…dare she say…a pout. "Nah…she left you Lily!"

"Mrowwwwwwwwwrrrrrr."

A huge black cat with a scar over his left eye stared back at Levy with intelligent eyes that currently screamed annoyance. More than likely due to the way the big beast of a man was holding the feline beneath it's armpits, the rest of him left to dangle .

Levy nodded dumbly…and simply stared. "A…a cat…I suppose that would make more sense." Not that anything was making much sense to her overwhelmed mind at the moment.

"Damn skippy, Shorty." The lug redoubled his scowl and plopped the put-out cat into Levy's arms. While she struggled to hold his substantial weight, Gajeel turned to the lawyer "Dammit Mac, what the hell are we giv'n Lily to this little girl for? He shoulda went to me and you know it!"

Macarov shot Gajeel a venomous stare. "Levy Mcgarden, I'd like you to meet Gajeel Redfox, contractor and just recently, the owner of Magnolia's one and only hardware store. Don't mind him my dear, he just recently returned from contracting overseas and seems to have left any manners he might have once had. Not that he had many to begin with.

Gajeel grinned and puffed his chest, "Never had much need of em, no point talkin' frilly and beatin' around the bush when a body can get straight to the point and save himself a load of time and trouble in the long run. What the hell's wrong with bein' honest, I say."

Macarov rubbed his forehead and groaned, "Tact has it's place brat, one day you will learn that and I just hope I'm there to see it. Now…can we get back to why you are here?"

Gajeel bristled and crossed his arms, directing those blood red eyes back at Levy with laser intensity. "I been takin' care of Lily ever since Bell the Beast got sick last April. Which is why he should stay with me!"

Makarov leaned over, "I assure you, calling your aunt Bell the Beast is a form of endearment in eyes of Mr. Redfox, he has a penchant for 'gifting' everyone he meets with nicknames."

Turning to Gajeel, Macarov wagged his finger, "We've already talked about this Brat. This was what Bell wished, now behave yourself! Levy isn't used to your crazed idea of what you think passes for civil conversation. We're hoping to keep her here for a good long while, but that isn't going to happen if you scare her away."

Gajeel huffed, but did deflate a bit. "Whatever you say Gramps, but you can't honestly tell me you expect this bitty little girl…" He began walking a circle around Levy, eyeing her skeptically, "…ta live in that run down hunk of wood all by herself. The place is one step away from getting a big fat condemned sign slapped on the door. It's dangerous. How's the Shrimp here gonna live in it, let alone fix it up ta code?! Eh?"

Silent up to this point, Levy had managed to keep her temper at the big man's goading jibes at her height, and even her age…but the moment he all but stated she wasn't capable, she quickly went from a dull simmer to a full blooded boil. She received this same condescending treatment from her colleagues and that was plently. No way in Magnolia was she about to take such abuse from a stranger as well, no matter how intriguing he was. Squaring her narrow shoulders, Levy squeezed Lily tight to her chest and walked up to Gajeel to stand toe to toe with him. Ignoring the crick in her neck required to meet his eyes, she shot him her sternest glare and puffed her cheeks.

"You listen here, you giant, oversized lumberjack, I may be small and a tad young, but I'm an adult the same as you and I'll have you know I'm more than capable of taking care of myself, Lily, and a house too if I have to! Just you wait!" and then as an afterthought, "And stop calling me short!" She jostled the very large Lily in her arms, struggling under his substantial weight.

Judging by his shocked eyes and blessed silence, Levy took a moment to bask in the fact that she seemed to have taken Mr. Redfox aback. That is, until he rallied about a half second later and winged his eyebrows, smirking down at her. "Oh? Who would have known, the kitten has claws. Alright, Levy Mcgarden, let's just see how far you get on yer own. I wager you won't last two weeks!"

Levy stomped her foot, "I will so!"

Gajeel grinned, showing her his sharp canines, "You keep that fire going Shrimp, yer gonna need it for that old Victorian. I'll guarentee ya that. You last a week, and I'll let ya keep Lily." He plucked the long-suffering feline from her arms before Levy even knew what was happening, and then strode out the door before she, Mira, or Makarov could even blink. Shocked, Levy finally managed to run to the exit and holler after him as he gunned a big black pick-up truck, "Just you wait, Gajeel Redfox, You're going to eat your words! Because I'm going to win this bet!"

Gajeel stuck his head out the widow as he pulled away, "I look forward to it Shrimp!" And then he was gone, a poof of exhaust and Levy's still boiling temper the only indication he'd been there at all.

Macarov walked up next to Levy and smiled, "You do realize my dear…that you just agreed to a bet to win a cat that you already legally own?"

Levy let out a shocked gasp, "That sneaky devil! Is that what his aim was all along?!"

Macarov chuckled, "Don't let the piercings and ego fool you. Gajeel is smart. I think he saw an opportunity present itself and simply went with it. Believe it or not my dear, that big lug really does love that cat, he's had Lily for quite a while now. Try not to judge him too harshly, he can actually be very nice in his own way."

Levy's eyes softened a bit, "Maybe I should just give Lily to him then, it's not as if we have any attachment to each other."

Macarov snorted, "And watch Gajeel gloat? I don't think so young lady. You stick to your guns, and do what you set out to do. I'm sure Lily's place in this world with sort itself in the end."

Levy nodded and narrowed her eyes, "You're right, I can't let Gajeel win. Not after all that." Turning around she marched back into the office, trusting Makarov to follow. Picking up the old picture framem, she held it tight against her chest.

"Alright Makarov, just show me where to sign, it looks like I'm moving to Magnolia!"

….to be continued…