Levy's POV

Screaming echoed in my ears as I served yet another beer to yet another drunken booze bucket. Rogue cried as another tooth tried to work its way through the small babe's gums. I sighed as I slid a finger into a shot of whiskey I kept hidden under the counter. This was gonna be a long night if I can't quiet my fussing son.

Looking down at the child in my arms, I shook my head as I tucked my whiskey soaked finger into his mouth to massage the child's gums. As he quieted and began to get tired, I switched him to my other hip and went back to serving shots, beers, and mixed drinks.

I work here at Cana's Irish Pub, serving alcohol and talking with our drinkers. I also am in charge of booking bands. This week I had managed to book the Irish rock band Iron Faye. The band's lead singer sat at the bar just a few feet away holding a sleeping toddler and writing a new song. I glanced up just in time to catch him signal for a shot. I quickly moved towards him with a bottle of jack and a glass, glancing down to see my black haired son had closed his crimson eyes for the night.

"Hey stranger, you look like you could use some company." I looked up to see a sleazy brunette lean against the man completely ignoring the child in his lap. "Wanna go out back and play doctor?"

"No." The man growled his answer like a wild animal. The vibrations of his thick voice radiated through me and caused my heart to race. I continued over and smiled sweetly to the very intimidating man.

Holy hell, this man's a mountain with a spiked black waterfall of hair and two sharp stones of crimson for eyes. Light danced and played off the silver balls that decorated his ears, nose, eyebrows, and chin. Tan skin and black clothes made him seem scarier then he was.

"Hey," I smiled. "You look tired, honey."

"The life of a rocker." He sighed, still looking down at the paper before him.

"How 'bout a double?" I asked. "On the house."

"Thanks." He nodded as I poured the drink.

"Your child is as beautiful as a lunar rainbow." I smiled at the sleeping child. She had shoulder length, dark blue hair pulled back in high pigtails. Her pale skin shone against his dark cloths as she drooled on his shirt. Dressed in a green and blue dress and cuddling a little white stuffed kitten, the child slept so soundly, I doubt a blow horn could wake her. "I only wish Rogue would sleep so soundly."

The man suddenly looked up. He appeared to take in my appearance before his eyes fell to my son. A smirk twisted his lips and I felt my heart skip. He was really handsome.

"What's yer name?" The man asked.

"Levy." I smiled again. "Levy McGarden."

"Gajeel Redfox. The squirt on my lap is Wendy." His voice softened just a little as he looked at the toddler before him.

A sudden yell from across the pub claimed my attention as some hot headed red head with a broken nose started another fist fight with some blonde playboy. Sighing, I jumped over the bar, trying my best not to wake Rogue or take notice of Gajeel's shocked face when my true height was revealed. Making my way through the crowd, I grabbed the familiar red head by his ear.

"Now, Scott, I ain't telling you again, no brawls when the baby is asleep." I spoke sweetly, but my smile promised death if they woke my child.

"Sorry, Miss Levy." Scott shuffled away, quietly as I turned to the blonde.

"Start a spat again and you'll be sleeping, bloody, in the ditch outside." I informed him, cheerfully, before making my way back to the bar and the man I left behind.

Time Skip*

"So when does yer shift end, Shrimp?" Gajeel asked, using the nickname he gave me after the brawl.

"I still got twenty minutes." I laughed looking at the clock. The pub was closed for the night and I was cleaning up broken glass and beer from the floor.

Gajeel sat in the same spot he was in when we met. In one arm slept Wendy, his two year old daughter, in the other slept Rogue. They looked like a sweet little family, it hurt my heart.

Rogue's father was a stranger who caught me walking home from the library alone about a month after I graduated high school. Alcohol thick on his breath, he'd forced me into an ally and had his way with me before leaving me crying and bleeding on the ground. Nine months later, Rogue was born and, even though he wasn't created by choice, I loved him.

Gajeel told me Wendy was the offspring of a drunk night with a married groupie who didn't want the love child of an Irish rocker. She left the poor child outside the tour bus while he was on stage. Since then, Gajeel has raised her and wouldn't give her up for anything.

"I wish Rogue had a father like you," I whispered under my breath watching the man cradle my son.