Author's Note:

Another long chapter, I know, but bear with me. The next chapter will be much shorter and to the point, don't worry.

Enjoy!

Chapter Two

"Twenty-three were found dead earlier today in an abandoned warehouse in the eastside fishing district. The victims were seemingly shot, stabbed, and burned to death five nights ago. Their killers remain unknown, though a street camera shows a man jumping into the canal –"

"Ugh, why do you always listen to such depressing stuff, Lucy?" Cana scowls, turning the dial on her car radio to one of the many bubblegum-pop music stations, a song about getting revenge on a cheating boyfriend blasting through her crappy speakers.

Lucy scoffs from the passenger seat, "The news is not depressing, Cana. It's informative."

Cana frowns, "Could have fooled me."

They come to a stop as the traffic light aloft turns red and a wave of pedestrians flood into the street. Currently, the two girls are on their way to downtown Magnolia in hopes of finding a new, whole-in-the-wall restaurant to enjoy their girls' night in. They're not very picky in the kind of place, so long as the booze was cheap and that by the end of their meal, they had to waddle out the door and roll each other home. That was what Lucy loved about Cana – the girl was always up for anything anytime.

The pedestrians finish trickling to the other side of the street just as the light turns, and Cana quite literally guns it, her tiny car from the turn of the century sputtering away as she does. They begin entering the lower numbered streets, Lucy blissfully watching from her window as blaring police sirens and red-and-blue lights melt into the soulful music of street performers and bright lights of billboards, storefronts, and skyscrapers against the ink sky. A few streetlights later, Cana manages to not take out the parking meter whilst parallel parking and Lucy wiggles loose change out of her shoe for the still-intact meter, before they set out on their quest for dinner.

They easily meld into the crowd of people walking, and rather than feel overwhelmed by all the scents, languages, and colors being thrown about her in a constant whirlwind, Lucy finds comfort in them. Sure, she hates northern Magnolia, but southern Magnolia is not the same beast. Southern Magnolia is all the best parts of the city crammed into one place – the art, the music, the life – and Lucy grins to herself as she struts down the street, looking all around her in an attempt to absorb it all before it disappears, causing her to fall slightly behind Cana as she does. The brunette eventually notices when she goes to ask Lucy for her thoughts on a certain dive, only for her to not be there, and has to wait for the blonde bombshell to catch up before continuing on in fear of losing her indefinitely. If not to the city, itself, then to the city's people that would take one look at Lucy and swallow her whole.

Sure, Cana looked good; she was wearing makeup that made her dark eyes pop and lips pout, with her wavy, brown hair pulled back into a loose ponytail with a few strands loose to frame her perfectly-made olive face. She wore her heeled, black biker boots, loose ripped jeans, a white tank with an unbuttoned plaid shirt on top, and her black leather jacket, all of which played down her natural curves. It was one of her favorite looks, but Cana made the mistake of throwing another one of her favorite looks at Lucy to wear tonight, and she was afraid that it might have made her a target for the wrong kind of attention.

Lucy wore Cana's tight, pink cropped tank and low-rising skinny jeans, paired with her beige pumps, all of which accentuated Lucy's curves. Her long blonde hair that effortlessly flowed around her in some kind of halo wasn't helping, either, and Cana found it especially unfair that though Lucy had on no makeup, her skin was flawless. If Cana wasn't Lucy's friend, she would have wished dishonor on all her cows, but she is the goddess's friend, and has instead taken it upon herself to protect the innocent flower from all the nasty bugs that are sure to come her way tonight.

The two girls continue their trek down the street; Cana now keeping an eye out for appealing restaurants as well as perverts trying to steal her best friend, and Lucy simply saying yay or neigh to Cana's restaurant suggestions. Lucy finds her eyes roaming aimlessly about the area, flitting from street signs, to storefronts, to the tops of buildings, to little doggies on the ground, to strange people and things, one such thing causing her to snort.

'A guy with pink hair?' She laughs to herself, 'That's a little ridiculous –'

Memories of spiky salmon locks connected to the head of an odd man whom she had an odd conversation with at an odd location at an odd time on an odd day flood her mind, and Lucy stops in her tracks to watch the blob of color approach her.

She vaguely processes a man snapping at her for stopping in the middle of the sidewalk as the blob draws nearer, and Lucy finds herself reaching out to stop him, not knowing what she was going to say, just hoping that he would recognize her and fill in the void for her… only for it to not be him. It was just some tall, pale, lanky kid that doesn't even acknowledge her presence, strolling with his earbuds in, blaring some heavy metal song and sporting coordinating clothes, who happens to have pink hair.

Lucy sniffs, glaring at the now visible black roots, 'It's not even natural,' she thinks in a weak attempt at defense for her actions.

Suddenly, Cana is at her side, snapping obnoxiously in her face, "Hello? Is anyone in there? Kind of want to eat before the sun comes up!"

Startled, Lucy blinks and leans away from the hand practically being shoved up her nose. "Sorry, Cana," she stammers out, scratching the back of her head, "I thought I saw someone that I knew."

Cana rolls her eyes and groans before snatching Lucy's wrist and dragging her towards a nearby restaurant, "Yeah, well, while you were talking to yourself, I went and got us a table at The Nessie."

The Nessie, from the outside, appears to be the typical dive bar. Its front consists of two narrow, stain-glass windows with a massive wooden door wedged in between them. The sign above is worn and weathered from years of use, a few letters missing to spell HE NESS E instead, making Lucy wonder if Cana chose this restaurant because of the ambiance, or because its name currently reminded Lucy of the brunette's favorite drink. She can already picture the inside – a bar on the left, uncomfortable wooden booths lining the right, tiny tables for two crammed in the middle. As they draw nearer, Lucy can smell the fried food, beer, and people, and she can already tell that the tabletops were sticky.

Upon entry (which tested their ability to work together as a team in order to open the door), though, Lucy finds that she is pleasantly surprised. Yes, it's most definitely all of the above, but it is the charm – the drunken bellows of joyful customers, the bustle of waiters and bartenders tending to said customers, the air humming with music and love, the pictures of family on the brick wall – that makes Lucy sit down across from Cana in one of the tiny tables for two crammed in the middle, place her elbows nonchalantly on the sticky tabletop, and ask for the strongest beer in the house.

Cana was surprised by her usually reserved friend (well, as reserved as a stripper can be), to say the least, "Little miss CDC wants a beer? I thought you only drank merlot?"

Lucy rolls her eyes at Cana's gaping mouth, "I don't only drink wine, Cana. I don't have that kind of budget." She states matter-of-factly.

Cana snorts as the waitress returns with two ginormous wooden mugs of beer that Lucy needs both of her hands to hold, while Cana manages to raise hers high with one hand clasped tightly around the iron handle, "To our tiny-ass stripper budgets!" she calls.

Lucy laughs as she struggles to clink her mug with Cana's, "Cheers!" they holler in unison before pressing the mugs to their lips and chugging. Lucy takes one long, good swig before placing the mug on the table, taking note of the heat that teases her throat left behind by the alcohol now swimming in her empty stomach.

Cana, on the other hand, chugs the amber liquid until she slams an empty mug down on the table with a burp, flashing Lucy (who is in complete awe that the brunette is not the color of a tomato) with a wide grin as she does. "That was good – another round please?" The brunette calls over the noise to a cute, tatted bartender with his long hair pulled back into a bun, who simply sends her a smile in response.

Lucy's eyes bug out of her head, "Another round? I'm barely done with my first one!"

Cana shrugs, "Better hurry up, then. Unless," Cana tilts her head with a shit-eating smirk spreading across her dark lips, "you don't think you can handle it."

Lucy's eyes narrow. She knows she's being baited into doing something stupid, but she'd rather die than back down from a challenge from Cana. Lucy grabs the mug, presses it to her mouth, lifts it high, and chugs, all the while sending a death glare to Cana from the corners of her eyes. She ignores the horrible feeling of her esophagus being stripped raw and greedily gulps down the rest of the bubbly drink, not bothering to stop for air. Cana claps when Lucy slams the mug down on the table in a similar fashion to her alcoholic friend, but the similarities end there for while Cana shows now signs of intoxication, Lucy feels the warmth still settling in the pit of her stomach climb up her neck and face to spread across her cheeks.

Lucy eagerly sucks a large bout of air into her buzzing lungs and swipes at a trail of beer dribbling down her chin, flashing her companion a wide grin as she asks, "Where's that other round at?"

The next round finally arrives and leaves in a similar fashion to the last, followed by an uncontrollable fit of laughter originating from the blonde, and so does another, and another, until Cana is shamelessly flirting with the cute bartender (whose name she now knows is Bacchus) from across the room and Lucy feels as if her stomach is going to explode from all the beer she's drank. Lucy excuses herself from the table to stumble to the bathroom hidden in a corner in the back of the restaurant.

She crashes through the door with a surprised 'oof!' that quickly converts into giggles and hums happily as she throws herself into the first open stall, practically falling into the toilet as she goes to answer nature's call. She then staggers to the sink where she manages to lose the soap cradled in the palm of her hand five times before finally getting it to stay long enough for her to finish washing her hands. She grabs a bunch of paper towels from the dispenser and looks at herself in the mirror as she dries her hands. She smiles widely; she's a mess!

Her face is red, some of the scarlet splotches even staining her neck, and on her cheeks reside the dried tracks of tears from laughing so hard. She wipes the tracks away with the paper towels still clutched in her hands and turns to throw them away only to stop mid-movement, her heavy eyes widening at the sight before her.

She gasps softly – there he was, standing right in front of her and staring down at her with those ebony eyes embedded in his tan face, the flecks of emerald and gold gleaming amusedly in the dim light of the bathroom. Her jaw slackens, and she holds her breath as she lifts a hand to touch his scarred cheek, his drooping salmon locks, his thin chapped lips… only for her hand to pass right through him.

She gulps as the mirage disappears, staring disappointedly down at the paper towels in her hand. She doesn't understand why he's affecting her so much, the pink-haired man whose name she doesn't even know. She doesn't understand why she's been looking for him in every face she's encountered these past few days, and why she's been hoping he's doing the same.

He was just a man – a beautiful man that started up a conversation with a lonely woman at the bus stop. He was nothing special, yet no matter how many times she tells herself this, she continues to think back to that moment five nights ago, to the man she had shared it with, to the kiss that she had given him and the one he had returned that was filled with so much loss and despair, she couldn't tell if she was taking some of his pain or if he was taking some of hers.

Lucy reaches a hand up to her lips, remembering the warmth of him – the feeling of him caressing her tongue with a touch so gentle, she thought he was scared to break her. She doesn't quite understand what about this kiss is so different from the other ones she's had, just that it is, and that it's been plaguing her thoughts day and night, just like the man she shared it with has.

On a side note, she knows she should feel guilty for kissing him when she had a boyfriend, but she doesn't. She doesn't feel guilty for feeling something more than abhorrence for a person of the opposite sex. She can't remember the last time Bora kissed her, much less with so much emotion and passion fueling it. She can't remember a time when Bora told her he loved her. Then again, she can't recall an instance in which she told the asshole she loved him, either. They don't love each other, and they both know it, too. She used him for his money and he used her to release his… needs, whatever they may be.

Lucy cringes – her beer was going to come back up if she continued to think of that slime-ball.

She shoves the paper towels into the garbage and walks out of the bathroom, sobered-up and trying to forget where her thoughts were quickly deteriorating to.

Lucy ambles through the bustling pub back to her table where she finds Cana waiting with the check. Cana slides it to her once she sits and Lucy begins rummaging through her pockets for the forty Jewels to cover her half. She pulls out thirty-seven Jewels and throws them on the table before patting herself down for the extra three.

Cana watches intently as her friend grows frustrated and uses a hand to hide the frown deepening on her face, though she is unable to hide the furrow between her brows. After a few moments of Lucy frantically scouring her body for money, Cana pulls the check back. She snatches Lucy's thirty-seven Jewels lying on the table and drops down her forty along with an extra three Jewels before sliding it all into the check. She motions for a waitress to take the bill and only when it is out of her hands does she meet Lucy's gaze.

Lucy grinds her teeth, "Cana," she starts, her tone warning the brunette of her distaste with her actions, "you didn't have to do that."

Cana rubs her forehead, "Yes, I did." She sighs and Lucy already knows where this conversation's going. It's the conversation she's been dreading since Monday. She's just surprised it took so long to come up – and at a pub, no less.

"Look, Lucy," Cana purses her lips, eyes focused on one of her many rings in favor of meeting Lucy's hard eyes as she continues, "I really don't mind you staying with me – heck," she smirks, "it's actually kind of nice considering you clean up after the both of us – but you have to go back home eventually." Lucy shifts in her seat, all of the reasons for her to not go back to that place bubbling up in her mouth, only for Cana to squash them, "Now, I don't mean stay there, obviously. I know your boyfriend is a dick and I'm not some kind of monster that would force you to go back to him, but you need to get your money out of there. Preferably before Bora finds it. He'd blow all your lifesavings in one night and you know it.

"And after you get all your crap out of that hellhole," Cana smiles softly, placing a reassuring hand over Lucy's, "you can live with me." Cana is quick to raise her hand, clarifying herself, "Only if you want to, though. I know I can be a pain in the ass, so I'd completely understand if you'd rather move in with Mira."

Lucy giggles, "Thanks, Cana, that means a lot, but…"

But she hasn't seen Bora in almost a week and she knows he's going to have a punishment in store for her when she does go back.

"I don't think I can go back there." She whispers, eyes downcast.

Cana moves to be in her field of vision, "Hey," she mutters, looking worriedly at her friend, "you don't have to go alone. If you want, I'll go in with you if you don't want to be by yourself with him."

Lucy says nothing, instead she stays, processing Cana's words. She wasn't alone in this. Deep down, she always knew she wasn't, but she had just become so reliant on Bora, that she didn't even realize there was another way out aside from saving up for a place of her own. She had friends that cared about her, that were willing to take her in until she could get on her own two feet, and she feels like hitting herself for not realizing this sooner. Cana was right – she doesn't need him anymore and, frankly, she never did.

She can leave Bora, she just needs to do one thing before she can.

Lucy pulls her arm out of Cana's grasp and stands, looking down at the brunette with determination hardening her carob eyes.

"He plays poker with a couple of friends Saturday nights, so let's make this quick."

888

Lucy climbs the stairs leading to her apartment alone. Cana had offered to come up with her, but she told her to stay. She needs to do this alone.

Her footfalls resonate loudly throughout the stairwell, each one steeling her resolve to take the next step, and the next, and the next, until she reaches the fifth floor. She walks down the dimly lit corridor, heels clacking against the brown, cracked tile and eyes watering at the smell of weed spilling through the cracks of one of the doors lining the once-white hall. She is then taken back to five nights ago when she walked this hallway and arrived at her door, only to never enter the apartment. She was scared off by the yells originating from behind the door whose brown paint was cracked and peeling and whose golden 5E was stolen long ago.

Tonight, she hears no yells from the other side of the door and fishes the keys out of her pocket, unlocking the door. She takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves screaming at her to get as far away from that place as she can, and shakily swings the door wide. She passes over the threshold into the dark apartment and releases the breath she had held in – he's not there, just as she suspected. She turns to shut the door and flick on the overhead lights before turning back to the apartment, only to freeze up at the sight before her.

Two menacing men in suits stand in the center of her living room, glaring holes into her, while another lounges on the couch, eyes glazing over her with mild curiosity. The two men standing hold their arms behind their backs, puffing their chests out as part of their attempt to intimidate her, but Lucy finds it to be unnecessary; just them being there was enough. The one on the right is frightening – a tall, slim figure that is purely black and white with pale skin, raven hair, and cold, dark droopy eyes – though it is his counterpart that truly unnerves her. If she believed the previous man tall, then this one is a giant, standing at least foot taller than his companion. He's solidly built and tan, with long black hair pulled back into a pony tail and blood-red eyes that sit in a hard face covered with piercings. Neither smile, nor do they frown – they maintain no facial expression aside from their blatant glares.

A voice clears and Lucy turns her attention over to the man lounging on the couch, feeling her eyes widen as they do. Her jaw slackens slightly and she feels her heart begin to race – it's not every day the man that has been haunting one's thoughts comes to pay them a visit, after all.

"What are you doing here?" The voice she's been dreaming of for the past five nights splits the air, only for Lucy to find herself taken aback by the gruffness in it. Her brows furrow as she stops her scanning of his form to meet his sable eyes. The emerald and gold flecks near his irises are not visible from her spot so far away, so she can only see the black that threatens to swallow her whole should she make a wrong move. The loneliness that welcomed her at the bus stop is no longer present in them, instead replaced by an animosity that threatens her.

She gulps, trying in vain to gather the saliva she needs to utter, "I live here," she states, though it sounds more like a question, "what are you doing here?"

He stands, hands in the pockets of his black dress pants as he ambles across the room, eyes glued to her as he ignores her question and asks, "How do you know Bora Kripe?"

Lucy purses her lips – he had the same tanned face, the same light scars, the same deep voice, the same unruly salmon locks, but he was not the man from Monday night. The man from Monday night begged her for her sympathy, the man that stands before her now commands her compliancy. It pisses her off. It pisses her off that the man before her is a lie living in the husk of the man she connected with, but instead of exploding as she infamously does, she remains poised – she doesn't know what he's capable of. Her eyes flicker over the men flanking him whom she now assumes are his bodyguards of sorts – though she doubts that he would hurt her, she can't say the same about them.

She begins to jounce her knee irritably, "He's my…" she pauses, what the hell even was Bora to her at this point? Reluctantly, she meets his unreadable gaze again, settling with, "boyfriend."

"What do you know about Erebus?" He wastes no time in asking. A twinge of pain unexpectedly passes through Lucy – she at least expected him to be surprised, if not angry by this information, considering the kiss they shared, but then she reminds herself that the man before is not the same man she kissed, and the pain passes.

Lucy thinks back to his question and frowns; the name Erebus rang no bell, but even if it did, why did he care about it? "What does that have to do with anything?" She asks defiantly.

The two men shift and his eyes gleam as he takes a few warning strides towards her, "Do you?"

"No." She answers truthfully.

His eyes narrow in thought as he begins to circle her like a shark would its next meal, and she, in turn, remains still. She stares straight ahead at where he last was, which is the window opposite of her, and the only movements she makes include clenching and unclenching her jaw and toying nervously with the keys in her hand.

He begins to speak when he is at her back, "I need you to ask your boyfriend something for me." She almost smiles at how he bites out the word she used to describe Bora. He rumbles on, "I need you to get as much information on Erebus as you can from him. Where their shipments are going, how many are going out at a time, when the shipments leave and where they leave from, the names of their buyers," he trails off as he comes to stand before her, face inches from her own and eyes penetrating hers, "I want all of it."

Lucy lets out a humorless laugh that wipes all expressions from his face, "Listen, I'd love to help you, but I'm not planning on seeing Bora ever again. I just came to grab my stuff and go."

"Look…" he starts, trailing off when he realizes he doesn't know her name.

"Lucy," she offers softly.

"Lucy," he hisses, "I need this information and I need you to get it for me. I don't care about your plans. I don't care about your current relationship with Bora. I don't care what you have to do to get the information, just make sure you do, because if not," he moves in so close she can feel the heat radiating off of him and his hot breath on her ear as he whispers, "I know you have a friend parked outside and I know where she lives. I know where she works and I know what bar she frequents. So, if you need a little push," Lucy feels herself flinch, "I won't think twice to shove you over the edge."

Lucy's gut coils tightly. He is threatening her – he is threatening Cana. She doesn't know how he knows these things he claims to know and she doesn't know just how he plans to 'push' her, but she does know one thing; she has to do what he says whether she likes it or not, and he'll make sure she does, no matter who gets hurt in the process. She has no choice in the matter.

She feels herself tremble – either from bile or horror, she doesn't know – as he pulls away enough so that their eyes can meet. Her brown eyes scour his hard, black ones, searching for a chink in his shield in hopes of being able to exploit it and reach the broken man from the bus stop that wouldn't make her do this, only to come up with nothing.

She feels her throat tighten as she mutters low so only he can hear, "Why are you doing this?" She chokes out, her final attempt at reaching him.

He shows no sign of a reaction to her plea, but responds nonetheless, "I have my reasons." Lucy feels her heart drop as he steps away and moves to the door, calling to her from the threshold, "I'll come to you in a week."

He then disappears into the hall with his two men following in suit, leaving Lucy to mourn the loss of a stranger she met on a bench at 3 am.

Her mourning is cut short, though, when the man who pays the rent stumbles through the door and slaps her in the face.