Author's Note: I do apologize for not updating any of my stories. I'm back and I'm currently working on it! Thank you for your cooperation. I'll be publishing a series of Graylu stories or oneshots, and I'll probably post another nine-tailed fox AU with Lucy and Gray because I fell in love with the idea when I was writing yearning.

Note: contains some content from the Reunion Arc. Spoilers.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail. All I own is a fiery passion for Graylu.

How to Charm a Stranger
by alberonas

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate."
—William Shakespeare, Sonnet 19

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May 23, X792
10:38 P.M.; Magnolia's Newest Club

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Tonight was not Gray Fullbuster's ideal night.

Prior to this mishap, his bratty assistant, Mary, had lost her cool during a heated argument with Goumon over his cheesy puns, and the blame had still been pinned on him—of course, he'd have to take responsibility for his employees' messes. He'd ended up having to skip lunch, and had to reschedule an imperative luncheon with his boss. Talk about bad impressions, tacky people, and messed up workdays.

And now, his colleagues had dragged him to Magnolia's newest—and hottest—club, The Time Turner, run by his former affiliate, Ultear Milkovich.

The cacophony of the music blaring from speakers roared in his ears, and Gray resisted the urge to bury himself underground. Perched beside him upon an expensive spool chair, his coworker Briar patted down the wrinkles in her scanty scarlet dress and leaned in close.

"Gray," she purred through half-lidded eyes. In a meager attempt to act sultry, she ran a hand down said person's arm, and he tensed. "You're such a killjoy. You're making my dress waste away with how boring you are."

"There isn't even much to waste anyway," Gray grumbled, shifting in the spool chair. He shrugged her off placidly. "Especially for someone who painted their dress on themselves tonight." Briar rolled her eyes as he took a swig of his drink.

"Whatever," she frowned. She sashayed away, making a picture of herself by swaying her hips with every movement possible in hopes of drawing the brunet's attention. It didn't work. "Party pooper. When I'm back, you'd better have someone to dance with, or I'll force you to dance with me."

"Hn," Gray grimaced, and ran a hand through his hair.

This was going to be a long night.

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Lucy Heartfilia bit her lip and raised the lacrima to her ear. The receiver on the other end of the line chimed, "Lu-chan! How are you doing?"

"Levy," the blonde responded, lowering her voice as she crossed her arms. "I've barely started the mission yet. Who was idiotic enough to send me to find him in a freaking nightclub?"

Levy sighed, and the line crackled. Lucy tensed. "Makarov. He wanted the chance to see you dressed up cute."

"Damn it. I could've just acted as a business partner!" Lucy cursed, and ran a hand through her hair. If looks could kill, she mused, the whole club would've been up in flames already—icy flames.

Lucy had been sent on an exclusive mission singling out a certain Gray Fullbuster of the new skyrocketing company Avatar. If the anonymous murder of the head of a corrupt embezzlement organization couldn't do it, then what could? After all, the Mikage Forest site was one of the largest Avatar campuses. It was only through sheer luck that it resided near Magnolia.

"Don't worry, Lu. This method might be a lot more effective, if you work it out well. And I'm sure you will," Levy reassured, and the blonde grimaced at the prospect. "Report to us immediately if something happens—"

Suddenly, the signal was cut off, and she was left with a litany of incessant beeping. Pocketing the phone with foreboding set upon her brow, Lucy sighed, dusted herself down, and swept past the bouncer, who waved her in with a slightly lecherous look.

"Showtime," she muttered to herself, and flipped her hair over her shoulder. Pasting a placid expression on her face, Lucy briskly made her way over to the bar to wait, as a tiger awaits its prey.

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Gray was glad, for once, that his childhood friend Cana had taught him how to hold his liquor. Although his head was feeling a little bloated, he was fine otherwise; it had already been his fifth drink, and he was burning a hole in his pocket. He sure hoped this Time Turner was worth the spending.

A rush of movement through his peripheral vision caught his attention, and he lazily tilted his head to see who it was.

It was at that moment that he laid his eyes upon one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen before.

Gray had refined taste when it came to such; in his career, he had seen and worked with plenty of gorgeous ladies. He'd never even batted an eyelash at any—they were all too artificial, too eager, too shallow to understand anything. Yet, as the blonde sauntered her way over to the marble counter and perched herself on the stool with an elegance few people had, he felt a pang in his chest.

"God damn it," Gray murmured to himself, "not another one." From the looks of it, this one could either be all business... or all and anything but.

As his eyes flitted around to take in his surroundings, he realized that he wasn't the only one whose attention she had caught. Quite a few men's gazes lingered upon her, and he felt an inexplicable urge to growl. Gray returned to his drink torpidly at the thought of the strange blonde lady a seat away from him.

"A martini, please," she directed at the bartender, her voice richer and more mellifluous than honey. Said man nodded and went to work.

Out of the corner of her eye, the blonde's focus flickered to Gray's.

Lucy glanced at the brunet sitting a stool's length away from her through half-lidded eyes, and felt the urge to clap as he stiffened. She pivoted her head away, and, noticing the rustle the man made as he huffed darkly and returned to his drink, held back a smirk.

This was him.

According to Levy's external research—and her time infiltrating Avatar—Gray Fullbuster was "tall, dark, and handsome," was a calculating, brooding boss, and never backed out of a challenge or a brawl. This had to be him; the way he composed himself even following alcohol consumption, the way his stature was slouched slightly like one would at a work desk, the stoic expression on his face... This all had to be him.

The bartender slid the glass over the counter, and Lucy sipped it, casually throwing another, more arrogantly-flavored glance at Gray. She spun in her seat and reclined, crossing her legs. Having caught the gaze, his eyes darkened, like he was being challenged.

But challenged at what?

Looking around, inspiration suddenly struck, and Lucy swiveled back to the counter. She tilted her head as she looked at the bartender. Sensing her watchful eye, he glanced up at her. The blonde smiled artfully, and, automatically drawn, he stepped over.

Lucy leaned on her elbows and clasped her hands together. "It's a lovely evening, isn't it?" she drawled mysteriously, crossing her legs for show.

"Yeah," the barista agreed shortly. "Busy night tonight."

"Are you new here?"

"Yep."

"I don't know if anyone's ever told you this before," Lucy angled forward a little more, acting like she was absorbed in their conversation, her voice lilting. She raised her eyebrows, "but you have beautiful eyes."

The bartender stopped wiping his glass and set it down at this, dumbfounded. He flushed. "W-Well..." He cleared his throat, trying to gain his composure, but was too late. "It's not like I was watching or anything, but you do too."

"Really? I heard green eyes are very rare—oh, how rude am I? I do believe we haven't properly introduced ourselves yet." Lucy eyed the man alluringly over the rim of her glass as she raised her drink to her lips, making sure subconsciously that Gray's attention was still directed at her.

The bartender smiled. "Ren. You're very beautiful... b-but it's not like I like you or anything. What's your name?"

"... Layla," the blonde replied after a moment, giggling politely.

Gray stared at the bottom of his glass, discreetly eavesdropping on the blonde and the idiotic bartender's conversation. With a frown and a clenching of his jaw, he stifled a perfunctory snort at the two's bantering.

It was at this moment that Briar flounced back to him, Mary clinging to her arm. The chocolate-skinned woman ran a hand through her hair and settled herself heavily on the seat between Lucy and Gray. Mary latched herself onto Gray's arm. Looking over Briar's shoulder, Lucy hid another laugh.

Those idiots, she thought, trying to ease the unsettling feeling in her stomach. They'll never get him.

... Right?

"Gray," Briar smiled slowly, batting her lashes. "I see you're still here." She laid a hand on his bicep. When Gray made no move to shrug her off, Lucy's eyes widened a margin, and she began diligently delving more into her conversation with Ren.

"Hn," the brunet grunted. "Where'd you guys go?" Noting how Lucy and Ren's conversation was still going strong—stronger than before, actually—he felt the urge to up his game. He settled back, slamming his drink back on the counter with an easy grin.

"Actually," he lolled, "I was on the dance floor." He flexed and fixed his tie for emphasis. "I just got back."

"What?" Mary shrieked. "Where is she? I'm going to kill her!" It didn't take a genius to tell that Mary's daunting gaze was meant for Gray's prospective "dance partner."

Green with envy, Briar narrowed her eyes. "I didn't see you there. Where the hell is your dance partner then, huh?" she demanded haughtily, crossing her arms over her chest.

Lucy frowned, her brows creasing. She was going to lose her target! Infuriated, she glanced at Ren and raised a brow suggestively.

If he was doing so, then it was time to up her own game, too.

Gray's view switched back subconsciously to Lucy and Ren, and his eyes almost boggled as the two leaned over the counter and began aggressively sucking face. He almost popped a vein.

This lady was crazy! As soon as she got here, she indirectly challenged him to a deadly game of seduction—he knew a challenge when he saw one—and she was getting far too good for his liking.

"Briar," he suddenly said, gazing at his colleague intensely. She stilled, eyes widening as Gray cupped her cheek, and, staring at Lucy the entire time through his peripheral vision, slammed his mouth upon hers.

Lucy broke apart from her naive barista with a seductive smile she had practiced for eons. She ran a hand down his cheek, her fingers flitting like butterflies. "I do beg your pardon," she muttered in a low voice, "but I'll have to excuse myself."

As she got up to depart, Ren hastily grabbed a small piece of paper and handed it to the blonde with an unreadable expression in his eyes. Eyeing it with a delicately raised brow, she accepted the item, added a single line upon it, and held it up between her index and second finger. Her gaze flickered back to his with rhetorical curiosity, like she already knew what he was implying yet had nothing to say. The dark-haired bartender flushed and looked away, and at this Lucy smirked. The blonde let the paper drift through her fingers onto the smooth counter surface.

"Call me," Lucy enunciated, voice velvety and eyes cryptic.

Sliding the now empty martini glass back at him, she winked flirtatiously at Ren before departing from her seat. Making sure to make eye contact with Gray, who had stopped his scene with Briar before she melted and was now dealing with a sobbing Mary, Lucy whipped her head around and disappeared into the bustling crowd. Gray glared in her direction, when his foot accidentally nudged against something soft.

He raised an eyebrow and picked up the article propped up against the counter. "Her purse?" he mused, before a determined grin spread upon his face.

It was only natural to return a lady's belongings, was it not?

.

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Lucy stumbled outside, feeling her insides burning.

"How?" she croaked indignantly, and coughed. She ran a hand through her hair, regaining her composure. "That idiot's resilient."

She had just begun to feel around for her phone, when Gray's voice suddenly sounded from behind her. Lucy jumped at the sound of his smooth baritone and frowned, silently berating herself for jumping at such a marginal thing like his voice.

"Excuse me, miss. I take it this is yours?"

Lucy slowly turned, the moonlight bathing her face in a snowy white. Somehow, Gray couldn't help but be drawn to the way the night danced off her radiance.

"Well, aren't you a gentleman?" she said coyly, crossing her arms over her chest and raising a brow. "How was your evening, kind sir?"

Gray smirked, exhilarated by the way she drew him near like a moth to a burning lamp. "I'll have to thank you for the entertainment. You were very enthralling to watch." His voice made Lucy's insides wriggle, she found, and she had no idea why.

"As were you," she punctuated crisply, the moonlight melting her hard edges. Gray took a step closer. "I do believe," Lucy chimed after a pause, her face burning, "we haven't been properly introduced to one another."

"My name is Gray," he introduced courteously.

"I—" Lucy started, when, out of the blue, Briar and Mary's voices filtered from the entrance.

"Gray!" Briar called crossly, tottering over with Mary stalking at her heels. "What are you doing—oh my God!" She paused abruptly at the sight of Lucy. "Who the hell is she?" she squawked like a sassy, indignant deer caught in headlights.

Mary eyed Lucy acerbically, like a predator does its prey. Internally, the blonde shivered. For such a tiny girl, she was sure creepy.

Gray's breath caught in his throat. Seeing him tongue-tied, Lucy stepped in.

"I'm his dance partner," she answered smoothly, entwining her arm in his.

Perplexed, Gray played along and wrapped his arm around her waist.

"I wasn't lying." He finally found his voice, and managed a smirk, cherishing the way her body fitted perfectly against his.

Briar's eyes were wide. "You—" she stuttered, her lips puckering from the lack of insults floating in her brain. "You!"

"Briar," Gray admonished sternly, "I don't think you need to tag along tonight, do you?" Said girl's face immediately flushed.

"No, Gray," she admitted, wavering, bowing her head slightly. She harrumphed, directing a murderous glare in Lucy's direction. The blonde couldn't help but snicker as the white-haired fashionista stomped back into the club, almost shoving the bouncer to the floor in her rage.

"Well," Gray finally broke the silence as she disappeared amongst the folds of people inside the building. He turned to Lucy.

"Your name...?" he continued with a lighthearted chuckle, and Lucy couldn't help but feel, as she gazed into the abyss of royal blue in his irises, that maybe he wasn't as bad as Fairy Tail made him out to be.

"Layla," Lucy answered softly without missing a beat, laying a hand on his arm. She smiled, almost genuinely, and Gray could see the doubt in her eyes. A stray strand of hair danced across her face, and he brushed it back behind her ear.

"That's... not your name," he observed, and although Lucy kept a straight face, she screeched underneath. How could he have known? She was a professional!

"Is it now?" she teased instead, and gently freed herself from his warmth, luring him closer. "Well, you're a smart one, aren't you?" She began sauntering away, and Gray was drawn to the way her hips swayed with each movement. His mind screamed for him to run after her, yet he found his feet rooted to the spot. She paused at the corner of the street and turned back temptingly.

"Then you'll have to find out yourself, Gray."

With that she disappeared around the bend, and Gray finally came back to life. Rushing into action, he dashed out onto the empty street, bathed in ghostly white rays, only to find the roads empty and soulless. With a growl, he pinched the bridge of his nose, when he was suddenly brought to the realization that Lucy's purse was still dangling on his arm. Desperately, he wrenched it open, only to find a single sheet of paper inside. He fished it out.

114 Hydrangea Hotel, 520.
I'll be waiting.

With fire pulsing through his veins, Gray fumbled for his car keys, headed for his sleek black Mercedes, and fired up the ignition. He sure as hell wasn't going to lose her tonight.

A few blocks away, Lucy sent a call on her lacrima and impatiently awaited the reply.

She decided she may not be able to complete this mission.

Author's Note: I hope you all liked it. I haven't written that much lately, and my style's been changing a lot, so I'm getting a little rusty.