Author's Note: Sorry, not much of Natsu this chapter. Just Lucy stuff. He's coming though. And more characters! (I got lazy and haven't proofread this.)

Disclaimer: I don't own Fairy Tail. Don't fuckin' sue me.

ACT 4: Illegal

Some days, she felt like someone was watching her. And they probably were since she got herself into so many different scenarios. Most which were quite shady and illegal. At least, she was always handy with a whip for self–defense.

For minute, she stayed there crying in the hands of Natsu Dragneel with a scarf tied to her skin.

However the moment that dawned on her that she needed to stop whining was when Natsu spoke tactfully, "Lucy, classes."

The blond haired girl wiped her eyes with the back of her hands and propped herself up from the ground, away from Natsu's lap.

"Yeah," she mumbled, picking up her brown bag off the ground and standing on her two feet, "Thanks."

She watched as his lips drew into a line, "My scarf."

"Right. Can I borrow it?" she asked politely, tucking her mouth into the scarf's cloth, quite attached to the item.

"No," he snapped at her, his eyes grazing with defiance. Then, realizing what he said, he scratched his head and murmured, forcefully, "Okay. Give it back after school."

"Bye," she twisted her back to him, her fingers hugging the beloved scarf around her neck.

"It belonged to my father," she heard him suddenly speak, hushed though clear.

Lucy turned back around and stared at him, astonished, "What?"

"My dad's," his cheeks baked to a red, his hands cupping his voice to amplify it, "That scarf was my dad's! Take care of it, Lucy!"

Blooming with pink, she yelled back to him, copycatting his gesture, "I promise!"

Natsu smiled, defrosting the cold around her temple and shoving the flowers near him to blossom into spring, "Yeah."

He turned and walked away from her, hands in his pockets. Lucy bit her lip and faced away from him. Strawberry venom, you scum.

Her watch's clock hands told her it was 10:30. The time which classes swapped and switched. Also the time when Mr. Dreyar had no classes in his possession to teach physics very badly.

Lucy had returned to classes after her encounter with Natsu. Now she played to skip again to have a chat with Laxus. Thought, bonus points, she had the comfort of his scarf around her throat.

"Laxus!" her voice shouted, shoving open the door to Mr. Dreyar's classroom where he sat with his legs up on his desk and a magazine in his hands. Sorcerer Weekly to be precise.

"What?" he raised his eyebrow, defining his eye scar on his right.

"We need to talk," she stared him straight into the eye, slamming her palm on his desk and tossing him her brown paper bag.

Laxus' face switched from unamused to amused within seconds, "Oh? If Lucy wants to talk then it's got to be something interesting."

She frowned, her eyeballs rolling downhill, "Look in the bag."

He peeked into the bag and immediately smirked, like Siegrain, "Let's talk somewhere else, Heartfilia."

Laxus had took her outside to the rooftop that was suppose to be locked though as a teacher, Laxus, had a key in his pocket to open it.

She watched him sit down on the only bench there and relax, stretching his arms over the ledge of it. Why did Laxus choose the rooftop of all places?

"So, Lucy, you gotta present to me your project or what?" he cued her to perform like a monkey who juggled bananas. While wearing a banana suit.

She let a sigh steam out her mouth. From his graduate and now, he was and became two separate people; the silly Laxus who constantly half–assed everything to the tyranny Laxus who acted like the big ass man in power to everyone within a five million radius of his eyebrow scar.

She missed the senior high student Laxus from last year.

Retrieving the blue folder from her brown bag at Laxus' side, she began to open it and inform him of the situation, "Remember that Detective Boy from the police forces?"

His face stiffened, interested, "Huh? Yeah. What about that little high school brat?"

"He's conspiring with gangs. Or in other words, he's the leader of 'The Tower of Heaven'," she recited the information printed on paper within the blue folder's contents, "Even though he's suppose to be helping out the cops, he's got his eyes set on reviving something called 'The R System'."

"Tch," the blond haired teacher cocked his head, " So what? Kid's feeling a bit rebellious now."

"But," she fixed the scarf on her, not taking her eyes off the blue folder's papers, "His gang's alternate name is 'Paradise' which is the same as–"

"The guys who stole from the pyromatics two weeks ago? So?" one of Laxus' hand now held up his chin, still unfazed by her logic and findings.

"In these files, Siegrain is plotting some kind of strategy to exit and steal something from a building. Although, I can't figure out which since they're so identical to every other building in town," she glanced over the papers in her hands, puzzled.

"Plotting?" his face perked up a bit, "Something big or small?"

"Big," she answered him, flipping through the files, "It has to be. But, this is all in code. I can't tell what is what. I need a translator. But so far, I know they're planning to hit next week on a Tuesday. It'll affect you, Laxus."

"Huh? Why's that?"

"Because," she dropped her focus from her papers and onto him, "I went to investigate the old music building. I know you sent Evergreen to look into Siegrain's hideout this morning. I saw the messy papers all over the place, and I know how Evergreen tends to get a little panicked. You're lucky I covered for you and the Thunder God Tribe."

Now Laxus' eyes widened, the state of shock scratching his expression then replacing with curiosity, "You're smart, Lucy. I always knew you were since you started to pick up the books when you were younger. When your mother died, I knew it had hit you hard, and I knew those books and your little imagery friends were all you had."

"What's that got to do with this," she interrogated him coldly, not really wanting him to speak of the past and not the future.

"Lucy, look, I'm your cousin even if we got this little blackmail friendship going on. And, Siegrain's little plan has got to be stopped because," he paused, not sure of what to add to his sudden urge to speak so encouragingly.

"Because Siegrain might know of your dad, and you wanna know about it," she finished for him, her eyes browsing through her papers again, "I know you're obsessed about him. Lately, I've been feeling everyone's a little attached to their parents."

"Yea, that too," his attention darted up to the sky, melancholy memoirs from his childhood could be easily read from his dark eyes, "And I know you can outsmart him. You and yourself."

Lucy was startled by his honest outburst. Her eyes traced with fear and dread. She wasn't better than Fernandes. He was. She was just better at pretending to be.

Uncomfortably, her fingers bit into Natsu's scarf, "You know, you could come back."

"No, I ain't going back to see that ugly old man. Not in a million years or ever," Laxus huffed, the stubbornness he was born with corrupting his answer.

Lucy scowled, her hand tucking hair from her face, "That's why you took the job here at Carmen? Even though physics was your best subject, it was only a C. Plus, I help you organize your lesson plans. I still don't know how you graduated and got offered a job as a teacher here of all places."

"Quit downsizing me, punk," he scoffed, his chin tilted like some high–classed and bitchy king, "You still have to go get the Raven's subby boss soon."

"I know," her voice dropped from its overly emotional state to a flat plain, "I'll start tomorrow or something. I still wanna look into this."

The blond haired girl pointed at the blue folder in her hands.

"This folder and their hideout ain't enough for you? Greedy much. You gotta want for the right moment for the lightning to strike," he leaned back, crossing his arms approving his own statement.

"It's tiger and pounce," she walked over to sit next to Laxus on the bench, "And I know a few of their members and Siegrain's faces because they walked in on me when I was sneaking around."

Liar, she voiced in her head, the tiny light of truth blinding her excuses, you were waiting for them to return to gamble for information and assistance. Instead, you made a bad deal like you always end up doing.

"Oh really? That means they know your face. Isn't that bad?" he chuckled, laughing at her thought foolishness when she had meant to do that.

"It's fine. I plan to blackmail them anyways so," she released some cogged air in her throat, "it doesn't matter anymore."

"Lucy, you can't just blackmail everyone because I do that," Laxus rolled his eyes, the least of sympathetic in his voice, "Copycat."

"Laxus, you taught me that," she stuck her tongue out at him, closing her blue folder, "You suck, I'm leaving."

"You bitch! Get back here, I know you still have an juicy information to spill, informat!"

But it was too late, Lucy already had her face away from Laxus as she swung open the door from the rooftop down to the next level. In her hands was her brown paper bag which she had snatched from Mr. Dreyar's side and her blue folder. Her fingers waving a goodbye to the shell of her former friend, the girl's shoes slipped down a case of stairs until she reached flat flooring.

However instead of walking back to her classes, she sat down on the very last stairstep and stared at the blue folder's contents.

Blue prints and addresses in code inked the papers. Yes, Lucy was a genius. But, no, she wasn't a translator. This was a puzzle, she could figure it out, right? Laxus had said she and Siegrain were on the same level of intelligence so she should be able to decode these papers.

But, they weren't. He was better, and she couldn't get that fact out of her head.

"Failure," she met the eye of her reflection in the mirror. Once again she was visiting the girl's bathroom. Her brown bag containing her blue folder and other anonymous items dangled on her arm as she switched on the faucet for the water to pour on her soapy fingers.

The water spilled on her hands as she washed them before pushing the knob off, shutting off the water.

It was almost lunch time if you didn't count two classes wedged in between before it, and she had spent the last hour and a half intensely analyzing her reapings from Siegrain's hideout. So far, she had figured out nothing of trivial interest.

"Artifeltian?" she watched through the mirror as a beautiful white haired lady emerged from the stall behind her. Last time they had met, she was wearing black clothes, but today she wore a pink dress that reached her ankles. It suited her better than the black outfit.

"For the last time," Lucy sighed, her self–esteem already cut low from a certain blue folder, "It's Heartfilia."

"Oh, right," Mirajane corrected herself, blowing a piece of hair from her face, as she strolled over to the sink beside Lucy and began to wash her hands, "Sorry, I've been distracted lately."

"Why?" Lucy frowned, pretending to be checking out her own hair in the mirror, "Is your modeling job not going well?"

"No, modeling is just part–time. It's fine. I work here as a receptionist. And I don't do much but keep track of budgets and school records," Mira said to her, reading the words as if she'd been reciting them all her life.

"How come I never see you? Nobody has seen you that often," Lucy now was glancing at the white haired girl, seeing the moment of opportunity passing her eyes.

"I work in the back. Ms. Babasaama works up front," Mira spoke, her eyes focused on her hands still underwater, underwater for too long now, "Lately, I've been skipping work. Both as a model and receptionist. Family issues."

"Is that why you're so unhappy?" the blond purposely pried as much as she didn't want to, she hated prying, "Usually when I see you in magazines you seem so happy–"

"Shut up!" she watched as the white haired girl burst, finally meeting her fiery blue eyes into her brown ones, her fists curling up, "You don't know how it feels to have your little sister ripped from your fingertips right in front of you! It's horrible, and it's all my shitty fault! I'm a terrible person!

"I couldn't do anything for her! I used to be that cheery, nice type of girl everyone wanted to be, but now… now I just want to be the monster that tears up people's lives! I want to become the demon that devours the ones who wronged her!"

Tears dripped from her wildly crazed irises as she shouted through the ladies' bathroom, "I'd rather have blood on my hands than blood surrounding me! It's not like I'm not a bad person already! I'm a failure, that's just it."

Mira's knees bent down as she squatted down and let her arms wrap around her knees, protectively. The water fell off her skin while she cringed, allowing herself to just let go of the baggage that weighed her heart down.

Lucy didn't blink as she bent down to Mira's level and started to wrap her scaly scarf around the neck of the white haired girl.

"We can be failures together then," Lucy whispered after she finally finished tangling Natsu's heartwarming scarf on Mira. She knew that Mira didn't want pity. Pity was the worst; Mira wanted empathy. Somebody who understood what she felt.

A spark of the smallest hope popped off of Mira as she rose her head from her knees, soaked with tears and smoldered with fear.

"Th–Thanks," Lucy listened to the scene of the crying girl speak as water continued to drip from her chin. It reminded Lucy of Natsu, who not too long ago had comforted her when she'd reached her limit. When the red haired man comforted her at her mother's funeral.

The blue lined scarf was, indeed, sewed with magical properties. Magical fairy tale–like properties that warmed every person's heart it came into contact with.

She patted the head of Mirajane Strauss who wiped her eyes and cried there on the floor a little longer while wearing a familiar muffler.

Fairy Tail.

Levy: Hey, Lu. How are you? Like the rhythm?

Lucy fixed the scarf around her throat, glancing up at her Algebra teacher, Mr. Lates, who was semi–flirting with a girl in the front row while teaching the class some weird formulas on the whiteboard.

She typed a reply to her buddy on her phone under the desk, carefully observing while Mr. Lates was watching the red–haired girl in the third row.

Lucy: Oh~... I feel sick.

Levy: Shut up. I rejected Jet. He's spent two days straight in his room, and I now have given up trying to get him out. Droy is bored. My sister is still annoying. I'm translating stuff for my part–time job right now.

Her elbow poked the blue folder on her lap. Her eyes immediately sparkled in response.

Lucy: Can you translate encoded messages like the ones in top secret spy movies?

It only took a second for the little ding to tell her Levy's reply, but in the meanwhile, she locked eyes with her phone, intensely.

Levy: Yeah. It comes to me pretty easy. What? Did you buy one of those children's top agent books again? Or are you watching a movie and wanna figure it out before the main character? Is it a book?

Lucy eagerly nodded before realizing Levy couldn't see her nod in real life. Quickly, she opened her blue folder under her desk and selected the some of the papers that were encoded, which was nine out of twelve of them. Laying on her lap and scattered, she took a photo of each and sent them to Levy.

Lucy: It's a secret, Levy. Deceifer these please. (–Lucy Heartfilia has attached 9 photos to this message.)

Levy: Gimme a couple minutes. I'll send text you the translations. It'll be good practice!

Ten minutes. When her eyes snapped from the clock in the corner of her phone to Levy's new message. Dragons leaped out of the oceans like dolphins under her skin.

Levy: Wow, this is some pretty intense stuff, Lu. (–Levy McGarden has attached 9 photos to this message.)

Lucy tapped on the "9 photos" phrase, colored bold in blue, downloading the pictures into the phone's camera roll. Immediately, she ran over to the photos and emailed them to herself, ensuring that she could be able to see them anywhere she went.

"Lucy Heartfilia? Is that I see," her head sprung up from facing the floor at Mr. Lates' voice chirping at her, "your eyes not lain upon me?"

She smiled at him, her phone dropping into her lap, "Die, Hibiki."

"Hey!" he jumped as the marker in his hand was tossed to the blood–haired girl's head, "Lucy!"

Then, a desk was chucked into the air at the blessed head of Hibiki Lates who later was sent to the hospital with only minor injuries. Well, if you considered minor as a fractured skull and a bald spot on the top of your half–decent head minor.

In this case, it was no good for womanizing Hibiki.

Free of the remaining minutes of her algebra class and lunch break tagging along, freedom was bliss so she was content with her newfound free time.

"Lucky, lucky Lucy!~" she sang, her arms swinging at her sides while the most carefree grin wiping her face. She was inside, walking through the many, many hallways webbing each other to various locations. Her brown bag was currently with her, dancing on her arm, and Natsu's scarf knotted to her throat comfortably.

A certain long, black haired boy turned a corner in her visional of sight. His face was coated with several layers of sweat and red colored his pale cheeks. He was running toward her, his arms bouncing from his sides. Really fast actually.

"Rogue!"

Her lungs squeaked as his body concluded with hers, toppling her to the floor tiles. His fat, heavy body weight slammed her down to gravity's base. Rogue was the hella heavy. He didn't show much of the extra pounds, but when you bust exercises at the gym every five minutes, you tend to gain weight in muscles.

"Oh, Lucy!" his voice panicked as he pried himself off of her and stood onto his two feet, extending an apologetic hand to her, "Sorry, I was looking for you. I didn't mean to, uh, ya know."

"You owe me," she demanded plainly, rubbing the back of her neck as accepting his hand, "a strawberry shake at lunchtime."

"Yeah, 'course," he nodded, too quick to be natural, as he thrusted her up on her legs with their interlocked hands.

An unrequited silence screamed between the two as they awkwardly stood there, facing each other.

"Uh, Lucy," she stared at the white envelope suddenly passed in front of her by the hands of Rogue Cheney, "I was told to give you this. I hope you're not doing anything bad again."

She stole the envelope from him quickly, tearing it open without hesitation and reading its contents. Except there was none. The envelope was empty, and there was nothing written on the envelope's front side but a dumb picture of a cat that she had not noticed before. The picture was horribly drawn and was a fly compared to some four year–old's doodle of their stepdad.

"The fuck. Is this a prank?" her head lifted to question Rogue who dipped his head shamefully.

"Sorry. I don't know. Some guy in a ninja mask captured me and told me to give this to you or else," his face flushed, embarrassed, and his fingers silently fiddled with the other.

"Or else what?" she scowled, a glare shifting her once happy expression to her famously world–renowned irritated one.

His mouth opened, shouting unparallel to his personality, "Or else he'll spill that I still like Yukino!"

His outburst surprised Lucy's exception. Usually, Rogue just would shrug off such a topic and ask her how to eat four blueberry muffins in one bite. But here was the one and only, Rogue, his breathing unbalanced, and his body language whispered to her that he was nervous and provoked. There was something wild about him. Unpredictable.

Additionally, there were the starry, explosive sparks again. Blasting off into the dark, empty spaces of his eyes, the fireballs expanded his world every second, allowing him access to new emotions and new wishes. Allowing him to see through different lenses, his nature had just began to change.

Natsu. Yukino. Sting. Rogue.

What were the sparks flickering off these four different people's eyes' reason to be alive? To be a spark inside their kerosene of hope and hope?

No, she'd experienced it once before long, long ago.

When pretending wasn't something on her mind.

When her life was dedicated to laughing with her mother and Wesslogia's cottage was somewhere like a glamorous castle.

No, it had been something else.

Books and imaginary friends.

Celestic yet stellar.

"That's out of the loop," her mouth commented blankly, her eyes piercing not in Rogue's direction but right passed his shoulder where she hit a wall.

She would always hit a wall. Dead–end paths. A sidewalk leading off into a cliff.

"I guess so," Rogue's head turned and pressed into the crook of his shoulder, a displeased frown glossed his mouth, "I'm walking on dead grass, aren't I?"

Lucy thought back to what Yukino had said. She was indirectly implying that she liked Sting. That she was romantically interested in Lucy's brother.

That she was tripping over her feet and into a pit filled with snakes or maybe even bees.

"Yeah," she recited nonchalantly, her head tilting in wonder up to the ceiling where a light blinded her vision, "I guess I am, too."

After Rogue bought her an outstanding strawberry milkshake, they split their ways, and now Lucy sat in the janitor's closet with her phone snuggled up on her lap, shining light into the dim, windowless space.

She was currently reading Levy's translations from that one blue folder while slurping on her shake.

The results were mind–blowing and sick. Not the good, rad kind of mind–blowing and sick. The one that's smoldered with a blood–written smiley face on a butchered corpse.

Disgusting.

Lucy: I didn't expect that.

She sighed, her breath sizzling over her tongue.

Siegrain was the leader of The Tower of Heaven, or also known as "Paradise". They were going to strike at Vermillion Tales, a building in the middle of town which is cluttered with businesses occupying each story. It was a entrepreneur's dream to be set in this building. The Magnolia Police Department was living there on the twenty–first floor. There was also Magnolia's official bank a couple levels up.

The pyromaniac's shop plans were also slipped into one of the translations. Everything made sense. The date was correct. It was suppose to be showcased as an ameuter robberry with flaws but not juicy enough to rake up a trail. Siegrain had thought absolutely everything through.

It was quite intimidating.

A jingle greeted her warmly as she raced to check her messages.

Levy: It's deep. What are you getting yourself into, Lu?

She paused, letting a lie draw itself into her mind as she started to type back her reply.

Lucy: Relax. I found some ancient papers from the back cabinets of the police station. I just got a little curious.

Levy: Oh? Trying to play detective in those old timey, back–to–the–past films where the main character tries to figure out past crimes with the little and aged evidence he has? What were you doing at the police station?

Lucy: I was doing some community work. Now shut up. I'm heading back to classes. Don't you dare text me.

Levy: Can't promise, Lulu. ;)

Levy was a great informat, even if she didn't know it. Lucy slurped the last of her strawberry shake by its straw into her mouth. Her fingers cuddled with the scarf around her neck.

This was not time to be fantasizing.

She glanced at the time in the corner of her phone. It was too late to return to classes now since they had started twenty minutes ago.

Oh well, skipping class was beginning to become convenient.

Thanks, Natsu.

After that one thought, she slapped herself in the face and strolled out of the janitor's closet, aiming to head off of school grounds and into the city as a truant, rebellious student.

Time to do one of the many errands she was forced to do for a Laxus Dreyar, her backstabbing cousin. What a nice family she had.

Her shoes patted down the streets of Magnolia, and her brown bag, out of sight, stashed away in the deepest depths of her locker. Her scarf was knotted to her neck, brushing out of the way by wind.

Strawberry Street. She was walking on Strawberry Street. Wendy's shop was here, wasn't it? Maybe she should stop by. Then again, who would have known a Raven Tail minor base would be held here?

It was darker than she liked it to be. Probably a storm passing through or something.

On the sidewalk, her feet stopped in front of a corner, cutting into an alley. There was an engraving on the corner. She walked closer to it, her fingers dancing over it.

An arrow, pointing out of the alley. Bingo.

Laxus had said that there was an engraving on a corner of an alley. Now, she just had to go into the alley.

She peered into the said alley and strolled in. It was shady enough, how cliche.

She walked a few paces until to her right was a dumpster. She kicked it.

Clang.

It was hollow. She bent over to one of its side and tore at an odd loose corner of the metal. It ripped open right away. Through the dim light, there was a stairwell heading down underground into hell, being hidden by the dumpster's safety.

She crouched down and crawled under the dumpster until there was enough room to walk. She let her shoes drop down on each step, lightly to to make soft tapping noises. It was dark, she couldn't see a thing.

Lucy continued walking, her feet reaching an unexpected flat, forcing a small yelp out of her. A trigger fixed, loudly, as a bang chased afterwards. A slice of air breezed past her ears; she nearly flinched. Somebody had tried to shot her. They knew she was here.

A basement, of course. Raven Tail was so predictable. They had a hide–out under a dumpster in an alley below ground level. Laxus was right. Now all she had to do was prevent herself from getting killed because here in the shady parts of Magnolia, as long as nobody knows, anything's good.

A man with purple hair flashed a light into her eyes, suddenly a spotlight radiated her skin, defining her figure. The only people she could see in the room was the purple haired man who she recognized as the man who ran the pet shop around Crocus Park. Eryk, was it?

He was also the one holding the gun.

She was sure that she had an audience roaming in the black shadows of where the spotlight didn't reach. Focus, she had to exploit each figure out before attacking.

"And who the hell are you?" Eryk's finger wrapped around the trigger of his handgun, pulling again so a bullet spun right past her ear again. Bisca had better threats than this.

And this was no acting. She had confidence. Pride. Something to fight for.

A smile glittered on her lips as she bent down and retrieved something from the inside of her right shoe. A baton, its height matching a pencil, with numerous buttons decorating its outer shell.

Lucy held the baton in one hand as ripping some kind of fake skin shielding her right hand. As tearing off the fake skin, a pink tattoo was inked in its place. Her smile widened. These people, these people raised a hand against her and them. So why not pay them back sevenfolds?

The blond haired girl pressed a button on the baton as a thin line released from the top of its head. Her hand raised and made the motion of throwing it to the ground, yet the baton stayed in her hands. Then, she cracked it. The baton was a whip.

Her right hand raised up in the hand, her pink tattoo glowing in the light, as her other hand cracked her whip, ready for anything and anyone. A certain scarf, one former to a man with crimson hair, looped around her throat, warming her of the cold hostile air from Eryk and his fellow foot soldiers.

One phrase, she had recited so many times, spoke out of her mouth like a foreign strawberry language echoing through a celestial voice that was hers alone,

"Lucy of Fairy Tail, at your service."

Author's Note: I'm just gotta have fun and leave you guys in the dark until the next time I update.

Remember the reviews! Thank you for everything!