I've switched the order of chapter one and chapter two, so this chapter is the real new chapter, and the next chapter is the one I already posted before.

Thanks for reading!

It was Laxus's hand on Lucy's thigh that did Natsu in.

Of course, fingers can be turned in Mira's direction as well, but that is a moot point. The only good thing that could be said about this catastrophe is that the master had Freed fireproof the guildhall, so that the resulting explosion caused only minor damage. Moreover, most of the wizards were able to protect themselves, so the worst that happened was some minor burns.

When asked to comment, the only thing Laxus could say about the incident was: "That was some shit good fun."

Gajeel agreed.

Lucy is unavailable for questioning due to having her brains scr-.

"Laxus!" Mira scolds from where she is leaning over his shoulder. "That is not appropriate language for a formal document."

"But Mira, this is specifically for the guild hall's records, so who cares what kind of language I use?" Laxus bites his pen in order to conceal the grin at his lips. It's been a long day and a longer night. He's been at the guildhall since almost sunrise yesterday, preparing everything for the festivities. While he loves the Fairy Tail guildhall, twenty four hours is really too long to stay in it when he has been both awake and sober the entire time.

"Laxus, as guild-master-to-be, you know that guild hall records are open for review by the magic council."

"So," Laxus shrugs his broad shoulders, though he leans back into his seat in compliance as Mira takes a magical eraser to the part he has just been writing. It's a little awkward as the spacing is a little tight, and they're both in less than adequate clothing for this kind of intimacy.

Laxus had discarded the white formal shirt he'd worn for the party for the wife beater that he'd worn underneath it. The shirt is mostly ruined, anyway. It was black and charred at the cuffs and arms from where he had protected his face from the fire rat's flames. Thankfully, he had expected it and had bought a new, cheaper shirt for the occasion rather than risking one of his more expensive, tailored shirts.

Mira, on the other hand, is still wearing her flouncing, low cut violet dress. She never wears anything as revealing as she had when she was younger—which is a disappointment to many of her fans—but it still highlights Mira's impressive femininity.

Despite that Laxus's thoughts have never wandered in the direction of a relationship between Mira and himself (when they were younger, they were both too argumentative and immature, and now Laxus knows Mira's eyes are straying far more often in Freed's direction) Laxus takes the opportunity to observe her backside unobserved. He breathes in the sense of her jasmine perfume, tinged slightly with smoke, but still perfectly lovely. It isn't that he likes Mira in that way, but just that she's a fine example of the female form.

Not even looking behind her, Mira grits out, "Laxus, if you don't want to go outside and spar, I would ask that you control yourself."

At the threat of Demon Mira, Laxus looks away and crosses his arms. "Che," he grunts. Although he isn't really scared of Demon Mira, he knows that any clash between the two of them—especially in the mood they are in—will be very serious. And he is through with irreparably hurting his guild mates.

A knock at the door draws their attention. Freed stands in his usual outfit, hair perfectly in place (despite being part of the debacle earlier). As soon as she sees him, Mira softens in a way that Laxus can't understand. It's not just in her body, which starts to sway towards him, or in her expression, which flares into excitement that melts into a pudding-like smile—sweet, soft, and sincere.

"Hey, Freed." Mira greets in voice that is not as perky and cheerful as her normal greeting, down in the bar, but its more heartfelt, radiating both happiness and affection.

Freed's smile is just as deliciously genuine. Laxus has never seen such a smile on his face, though he's seen Freed with many other girls before. Usually the smile is polite, and in some cases predatory—though for some reason with Freed, Laxus can never imagine him as a predator (like a wolf, for example) without also including a monocle and a monogrammed handkerchief between his claws to mop up his mess afterwards.

However, this thing that is frothing up between his best friend and Mira is something Laxus can't understand, nor bear to watch, because it fills him with confusion, envy, and awe. There are precious few couples in the guild, and those that are couples usually leave such acts of intimacy outside of the bar. Laxus has never really been a witness to this kind of affection. His grandmother had died before he was born, and his mother had left his father in his childhood.

Laxus sees Mira and Freed, and believes that he is seeing what love should look like. It makes him regret that most of the female wizards of his age that he would consider becoming partners with, are all attached to someone (or something, as in Cana's case). Of course, there are many wizards who have partners outside the guild, but that is never a relationship Laxus thinks would be viable for himself. He needs a woman who can really understand him, which he doesn't think a non-wizard would be able to do.

"Laxus, the master would like to see you," Freed comments over his shoulder, as he turns with Mira to walk out the door. Laxus bends his head slightly so that he can see Freed's hand resting carefully on Mira's hip, thumb stroking the slope of her waist. The way Mira is clutching at him provokes the thought that someone else besides Natsu is getting lucky tonight. Today, Laxus mentally corrects himself, eyeing the blue sky and the subtle buzz of early morning activity. Damn, but he has been awake for way too long.

Unfortunately, Laxus can't even look forward to the comfort of his own bed.

With a groan, he stands and heads down to the guildhall. He finds Makarov not staring into a tumbler like he expects at this time of the morning, but standing on the edge of one of the high windows, looking out towards the sky. He's still dressed in his casual orange outfit, though his hat is in a happy alcohol daze on top of an empty beer bottle.

It's a sheer miracle that his grandfather is even standing with the amount of booze that he has taken in. Makarov had more action during the party than even Laxus did, though Laxus had gotten a little playfully intense with the Celestial Mage before Natsu had ruined his fun.

Damn, but did that blond have curves. He wasn't completely sure, having never felt them up himself, but he thought Lucy might been even bigger in the chest than Mira or Erza. Not that Erza regularly showed hers off, but he is experienced enough to take a guess.

"Hey old man!" Laxus's voice is loud enough to wake the zombied drunk, but what does he care? If they are still inside the guildhall, they should get out. He doesn't have the time or energy to go around and kick more of the blitzed and pissed out of his damn guildhall. (It isn't his guildhall yet, but he has no compunctions about claiming ownership early). "What did you need to talk to me about, 'cause I want to head home."

He waits for a few moments, but Makarov does not turn around, though Laxus knows that Makarov has heard him. While the window exhibits a bright sky outside, Makarov's profile is completely in shadow, so he can't even see what his grandfather's face looks like.

Uh-oh. Now what? Laxus grimaced. It just figures that after a long stressful day, the time in which he should be able to wind down so that he can finally get some rest, something apocalyptic would happen. I wonder if Cana's finally drowned herself in a beer keg.

Makarov is silent for a few more minutes before he turns, displaying tears cascading over the vast craggy wrinkles of his cheeks, snot surging across the bushy plains of his upper lip, until it condenses into a wet stream which gushes off his face.

"Laxus!" Makarov throws himself at his grandson, clinging to his neck and—in the process—covering his grandson in his own mucilage.

"What the hell, gramps!" Laxus grabs Makarov and tries to pull the old man off of him, but Makarov refuses to let go, sobbing into Laxus's chest.

"Gramps! Either explain to me what this is all about, or let go!" Makarov sobs for minutes longer than Laxus's patience can hold, so Laxus finally sits down on a bench to wait out his grandfather's tears.

He would have pulled his grandfather off of him and left, if not for one thing. Its not that Laxus is so tired that he feels a little dizzy. Or that he hasn't exactly gotten dinner tonight, what with the entire guildhall almost burning down from flame brain's jealous rage. It's that after so long, with this silent undercurrent of tension between the two of them (despite Guildarts rescinding Laxus's banishment from Fairy Tail) that Laxus feels underneath it all, Makarov has finally and truly forgiven him.

Momentarily finished using Laxus's wife beater as a hanky, Makarov pulls back to stare indignantly into Laxus's eyes. "It's not fair!" Makarov finally wails, and then pushes his wet and whiskery face into Laxus's shoulder once again.

"Geez, gramps. I swear, if this is about you and one of the girls—"

"How dare you, Laxus!" Makarov whimpers, slightly muffles from where his face is smashed against Laxus's muscled bicep. "You were just getting my hopes up! Thought you'd toy with an old man and his fondest dreams!"

"What? Fondest dreams?" Laxus scrunches his eyebrows together, bewildered. Is this about him and Lucy? Surely Gramps knew about the plan Mira concocted and roped him into, not that he objected either to getting a lot closer to the Celestial Mage or yanking Natsu's tail.

But Makarov, though calming, still will not look Laxus in the eye. It is a little strange, and funny, for Laxus to experience this role reversal. When Laxus was younger, it would have been Laxus sitting on his grandfather's lap crying his eyes out (though Makarov would have to use his Titan magic to make himself big enough for Laxus to fit on his lap).

Makarov leans back and pokes his two pointer fingers together. "Umm.. Well… You see…" Makarov jerks his head up. "Oh, I think I hear Mira calling me. Excuse me, sonny!"

Laxus grabs Makarov by the back of his shirt before he can jet off. "Not so fast. Mira left with Freed ten minutes ago. We're the only ones here. Now explain."

Now Makarov is back to the eye-avoidance, finger-poking thing. "Well, it's just Mira implied that Lucy and you were together."

"Yeah, that was just part of the ruse to get Natsu to take the bait and finally admit his feelings for Lucy."

Makarov starts sniffling again. "I realize that now, but— but—"

"But what?"

"But I already started taking bets on what my first great-grandchild would be!" Makarov's eyes start gushing tears again, but thankfully this time he turns around to huddle against a bench his face in his arms. (Which makes Laxus suspect that the reason Makarov started crying against Laxus was partially to punish him.)

Laxus twitches. Not that he hasn't been expecting that answer, but to have it confirmed how involved gramps is with his life (even though before tonight they haven't completely been speaking to each other) is a little off-putting.

Clenching his jaw, Laxus indignantly snaps, "And what are you more upset about? The money or the grandchildren?"

"Both!" Makarov moaned into his arms.

"Look gramps. I don't have anyone in my life right now, and moreover, it's going to be years before I ever decide to have kids." Laxus frowns and corrects himself. "If I ever decide to have kids."

"But why Laxus! Why would you ever take the pleasure of this old man from seeing new life, from seeing his legacy continue on, before he departs on his next great journey!" Makarov whips around to stare at him directly in the eyes, though his own are wobbling with an excess of tears.

"Geez you're not that close to death. What a pain." Laxus sits down and hunches over, rubbing his neck with both of his hands. "I don't think… I just don't think I'm ever gonna be the kind of man a girl wants to settle down with."

Makarov sighs then, a sigh that settles the age back into his bones. When Laxus looks up, it is to the calm, mature guild master that Laxus is used to. "My son, that is not really something for you to decide. I hope when the time comes, when you find the person whom you love and that loves you, you'll have an open mind. Don't fall prey to stubbornness like I did with your grandmother. It took years before I decided that I was worthy enough to love her, but she had already seen something inside me worthy enough for her to love."

"Remember, Laxus, with the right person, their love can make you become a better person, and that is what you have to search for. But you also have to allow it to happen."

"Che." Laxus crosses his arms. He isn't going to say that his gramps is completely wrong, but older people seem to live in a world of idealism; everything was better in the past, and the world was flooded with truth, justice, and people who didn't leer at girls in short skirts.

But those ideals just didn't seem to hold value in the world he lives in. They are like the ghosts in a haunted house. Even while they exist inside the house, they are unable to leave, unable to affect reality (besides the odd tantrum), and serve as nothing more than as reminders of people and ages long since dead.

Even as Laxus contemplates his grandfather's words, he finds the vision of the perfect woman an insubstantial wisp of smoke in the morning light. Yet still, he doesn't want to argue with his grandfather.

"Sure, gramps," he hesitantly whispers. "If you say so."