A/Ns: Well, I think this is quite possibly the shortest story I have ever written, but I didn't really want to do a full on one-shot like I do with my others. I think this works. Maybe.

Bickslow had never been one to have conventional relationships, so his relationship with Juvia was no different. But, then again, Juvia wasn't exactly a conventional person, so that was probably what made them work so well.

Well, most of the time. Or at the very least, some of the time.

But when they were actually getting along, they were great. He was easy going, she was a little shy and wasn't one for being all that out there. He was surprisingly fond of cuddling, and Juvia loved it, and Bickslow adored the rain, and for Juvia, that was pretty damn important.

Of course, even if there were countless things that made them work and made them get along, there were just as many things that made them an impossible couple.

Like how Juvia was always trying to get Bickslow to take more of an interest in their relationship sometimes, because for the most part, he just didn't seem all that invested. He was, of course, because he loved her. He just didn't show it very often, and it was most certainly not in the most conventional of ways when he did show it.

Or like how Bickslow was always trying to get Juvia to stop flooding the apartment when she cried. Their landlady was on the verge of murdering them, and they'd only been in that building for six months.

Sometimes, Bickslow had his moods and just wanted to be left alone to curl up in bed and do nothing, and sometimes, Juvia just wanted to cheer him up and take him out.

Sometimes, all Juvia wanted to do was bake cookies, but Bickslow wasn't allowed anywhere near her, lest he put too much cinnamon in them again.

Sometimes they disagreed on things, other times they straight up argued. He was immature, Juvia wasn't. She was passionate, Bickslow was impartial. He was a little insane, Juvia… Well, Juvia was a little insane too, and that was why Bickslow could handle her when no one else could, and it was the same with her.

But even when they could handle each other's insanity, sometimes, they really did just drive each other up the wall, and they each had their own way of dealing with it.

For Juvia, it meant having storm clouds following him all day and every day until he apologised. For Bickslow, it meant having the babies terrorise her until she'd come to her senses and let him out of his personal storm. Each time they walked into the guild, Bickslow holding an umbrella and taking the rain with him and with Juvia swatting away the flying totems, bets were made on just how long they'd last before one apologised.

The longest they'd gone without apologising was eighty-three hours.

When they fought, they didn't talk to each other. They stayed by each other – went to the guild together, sat together, talked to the same people, went home together, ate dinner together, and so on – but they didn't say a single word to each other. And even if they did, it went ignored, because they were both stubborn people.

"Do you want to pick something up for dinner or cook something at home?" he would ask.

"Tell Bickslow Juvia cannot hear him," she would mutter to the nearest soul.

"Juvia says she can't hear you," one would say to their master.

And then Bickslow would say, "Ask Juvia what she wants to do for dinner."

There were, of course, some things that would put an end to their little lovers' spats that weren't verbal apologies. To get Bickslow to cave, all Juvia needed to do was get a lighter or a match and hold one of the babies hostage. To get Juvia to cave, all Bickslow had ever had to do was step into the shower and use his personal storm to wash himself. That, Juvia had never been able to tolerate, just because she knew the Seith mage got a bit of a kick out of it, partly because he was a bit of an odd one and he was still trying to get over the fact that every time she had the rain follow him, it was only ever him who got wet, nothing else.

But most of the time, it was just a simple apology that would put an end to their magical torture, and more often than not, it was Bickslow saying the magic words, just because he didn't like it when they fought and he missed her when they did. But that was all Juvia needed sometimes. She didn't need to be swept off her feet, pulled into the downpour she'd surrounded him with and been kissed like he hadn't seen her in a year (even though she'd quite enjoyed that moment, and had quite literally turned into a puddle at his feet). She just needed an apology, and when it was her turn to give one, she would do so eventually, just because she missed him just as much when they fought.

But as much as they fought, and as crazy and as unconventional as they were, they still worked. Because at the end of each rainy day, they still got to come home and tell each other that they loved them, because when Juvia was the rain, Bickslow was her storm cloud, and neither really existed without the other.

A/Ns: I am now in Bixuvia hell (read: the queen because it's a hell). I welcome anyone who decides to join me there, but I'm doubtful anyone will, to be honest. But that's okay. I still love them, because in my head they're really sweet.

Again, just don't even ask me where this story idea came from. It's kind of a long story and it started with the friendship I wanted to have between them in Greyscale that never ended up happening.

But yeah. Just something short that I needed to write. Hope you enjoyed it!

Until next time.

- April