This chapter's AU was requested by BRSxANE.

["Liking this story Sydney-san I hope that maybe after your finished with this little angst phase you can maybe write something fluffy like Laxus acting all nervous on their first date or when he confesses feelings for Mira, but this is your story so it's your choice."]

It is indeed my story, but it's a story I want you to be involved in. Thank you for your request! I hope nervous, red-faced Laxus makes you smile. He'll be the star of my dreams for several nights to come. Nervous, buff cutie with cooking skills... yes please.

Fourth: Enigma

There was a faint scent of jasmine in the air. Her nostrils flared and her lungs expanded, drinking in the warm summer evening breeze and the lingering notes of flora dancing on its gentle spirals before they drifted further down into the meadow. She clasped and unclasped her hands nervously where they lay in her lap, each slender digit doing its best to distract herself from her handicap…

He had blindfolded her, the mysterious dolt. But as more than just the scent of jasmine tickled her cherub nose, she had to wonder if he really was a dolt after all.

Fragrant savory smells wafted through the air now, and her mouth watered. Her ears picked up on a slight sizzling sound, as well as the swollen POP! of what she could only assume was a cork being freed from the mouth of a wine bottle. Soon after, her ears recognized the tinkling of glass bottle against crystal goblet, and she could smell the succulent Riesling as it flowed. The breeze picked up then, and she couldn't suppress the slight shiver from snaking along her collarbone and arms. And then without warning, she felt a heavy, fur-lined coat being draped across her trembling shoulders.

That mysterious… gentleman.

Maybe he truly wasn't a dolt. Maybe he knew his way around romance. Mirajane knew going into this date that it would be an entirely new experience for the both of them. She understood that she didn't know Laxus too well. Even in their younger years, when they would occasionally go toe to toe in a sparring match as a result of her red-hot temperament, it was only ever combat. There weren't any meaningful conversations… No games of 21 questions. And after the whole Battle of Fairy Tail fiasco, she didn't particularly want to play such a game with such a man any time soon. But ever since they'd all come back from Tenrou, she'd realized little by little how very drastically such a man had changed. She didn't know the depths of that change, but she was intrigued by it. So when such a man had approached her in the guildhall late one evening as she was wringing out the umpteenth dirty bar rag of the day and asked to have a word, she had welcomed the invitation.

"Mirajane, would you like to go on a date with me?"

So formal. So polite. So… unlike him. That's when it really hit her: she didn't know this man anymore. In fact, she'd never really known him at all. His marble jaw didn't shake as he asked. His eyes steadily looked straight into hers, and Mira noticed how clear they were, autumn's early morning sky. He was the picture of confidence. Or at least he would have been, were it not for the light dust of pink across the strong bridge of his nose. Like a rhinoceros holding a flower between its colossal jaws. She couldn't help but be endeared by it.

"Yes I would, Laxus," she replied, equally as formally, matching blush for blush as her cheeks seemed to glow softly from within.

And so here they were, Mira with a blindfold obstructing her view to the goings on around her, and Laxus doing Mavis knows what behind the veil of mystery he had so ardently insisted upon hanging.

She had dressed simply enough. Lisanna was frustrated with that fact beyond reason, whining about how the first date Mirajane would be going on in three years – ten, if they counted Tenrou – deserved something more glamorous than the clean, understated ensemble the eldest Strauss had put together. But Elfman said something about real men letting their sisters make their own choices, and carted Lisanna out of the room as she wailed about him damn well letting her make her own choices then, double standards, yadda yadda… But Mira just smiled, and shut the door after them before turning around to survey her outfit for the evening.

Laxus had told her that they would be outside, but nothing else. She had assumed this wasn't a workout buddy situation, seeing as the man appeared to have more sense than to pull that stunt on a first date, so she had forgone the temptingly short gym shorts and skintight tank top reserved for such an occasion.

Instead, she had chosen an elegant, silken button-down. It was sleeveless, so she'd be comfortable in Magnolia's mild summer night air, and the cut of the shirt around her hips made it billow in just the right way, making her waist look even daintier than it already was. It didn't neglect her cleavage, either, showcasing a tasteful amount between the relaxed lapels of the collar. For bottoms, she'd chosen a pair of worn denim cut-offs. The fray of the seams wasn't so much that she looked as though she was heading out for a wild night in a barn, but just enough that it added a casual, beachy kick to her silk top. She'd thrown on some simple sandals, assuming she'd be taking them off anyway, her signature sapphire necklace, and spritzed on her favorite rose-scented perfume.

Which she now regretted, because as light of a scent as it was, it was still clouding her palate from getting a proper, uninhibited whiff of whatever delicious dinner Laxus was preparing. Sure, she was still getting some pretty good wafts. But her appetite was whetted, and she didn't much like the idea of crunching down onto a rose petal as she imagined sinking her teeth into whatever magnificent-smelling dish was being made.

They had been in silence for the last several minutes, the conversation dwindling as Laxus' focus was diverted to his cooking. Mira understood; it was hard to carry on banter and remember exactly how many tablespoons of chopped thyme belonged in which dish, so she told him not to worry, that she'd just sit here blind until he decided to "grace her eyes with his spread."

That earned her a chuckle, and a bashful, "All right, then."

The silence wasn't uncomfortable, either. It had more of a companionable feeling to it, and she'd feel hopelessly awkward trying to carry on a conversation while blindfolded, anyway.

Surrendering herself to her fate, she let her back sink down to the ground and her legs stretch out to loosely cross themselves at the ankles. One hand propped itself under her head, while the other reached out to languidly weave through the grass at the edge of the picnic blanket she was lying on. Her thoughts began to drift… From next month's rent to this peculiar moment in time, on a date with Laxus, being led into mystery by the gentle warmth of his strong hands. She couldn't help but wonder where his thoughts were wandering, too…

/

Panic. Panic. Panic. Where was that head of garlic? He could have sworn he just had it. Panic. What happened to the truffle oil? Where's the coarse pepper? Panic. It's in the bag. Over by the blanket. The bag is turned over. Next to an anthill. Panic. Mirajane is laying down right next to the anthill…which is now spewing angry ants FUCK PANIC.

Laxus, in all his hectic glory, leapt away from his dinner duties and scooped Mirajane, blanket, coat, and all, into his arms. The white-haired woman squeaked and clutched the front of his shirt.

"What's going on?!" She queried, frantic. His forehead beaded with sweat as he did his best to rally and reclaim whatever composure was left within him. He cleared his throat, and looked around for a suitable spot to deposit his date and the picnic blanket.

"Everything's fine. I just need to relocate you," He smoothly replied, skillfully avoiding the devilish cracks his unsteady nerves were trying to break into his voice. The girl's hold on his shirt loosened, and he stole a look down at her. She was biting her lower lip, her eyebrows scrunching together in concern. It was adorable.

"Don't worry," he said lowly, trying to give the fretting girl some comfort. He settled on a spot that was slightly more upwind of his little makeshift cooking station, and set Mirajane back down onto the ground after thoroughly scouring the nearby area for any anthills or otherwise. He quickly straightened the blanket back out, and righted his coat back on the blindfolded girl's shoulders, and before he could stop himself he brushed his fingers through her slightly mussed hair.

He messed it up, so he'd fix it. Right? …Right?

I'm such an idiot.

"Are you comfortable?" He asked quickly, hoping to breeze right past the fact that he'd just run his hand through her amazing hair. From what he could see there wasn't a blush on her face, so maybe she hadn't even noticed. Please Mavis, tell me she didn't notice.

Mirajane smiled a little, her brows still knit together in confusion. But she mumbled a little "Yes," and settled herself down into the blanket and Laxus' coat once more.

"It will be ready in ten minutes," Laxus supplied, and her forehead's worry was smoothed out by a bright smile on her pink lips. She nodded excitedly, and made herself comfortable again, rustling around until she was content.

He just stared at her for a quiet moment as she lay there, drinking in the strange sight of her being so casual and trusting with him.

She truly was beautiful, just like every magazine claimed. Just like every rumor whispered. Just like every man dreamed. But there were things that the reporters and the gossips and the fanboys simply didn't know. Like the fact that right now, Mirajane was doing her best to make herself comfortable because she was uncomfortable with the idea of being cooked for. That was the whole reason Laxus had blindfolded her; she certainly wouldn't give up the reins willingly, and she certainly wouldn't want to make anyone else go out of their way to serve her. But that's exactly what he wanted to do tonight.

And that's exactly what he would fail to do if he didn't get his ass in gear right this second. With a newfound confidence, he sprang into action. First, he sent a miniscule zap of lightning into the offending anthill, destroying all its inhabitants and eradicating the pest problem. Then, he grabbed the bag with the garlic, truffle oil, and coarse pepper, allotting the proper amount of each into their assigned dish, and let it all stew together. He then busied himself with putting the finishing touches on the meal's sides, sprinkling a little cayenne here, dashing a bit of salt there. Somewhere during his ministrations, he began to consider exactly what he was in the middle of.

Making dinner for Mirajane Strauss…

In a lush meadow bordering on a crystal clear stream…

On a romantic picnic dinner date…

…Their first date.

Panic. Panic. Pa- NO.

Laxus squashed the anxiety as quickly as it had burst to life, and paused his task to steal another glance at the date in question as if reassurance lay within her picturesque state. And so, it did.

She was still, her body draped carelessly across the blanket, and he noticed one of her hands curled in the mass of fur lining his coat. There was a serene smile on her angel mouth, and he felt his feet forget gravity as the hairs on his arms stood on stock, stiff end.

Truthfully, he didn't know her very well. They'd never had important things to say to one another. Hell, one of the few conversations he'd had with her, he was bribing her to force Lucy Heartfilia into the role of his personal arm candy. His face turned red at the thought, embarrassed by the corruption that once threatened to ruin him for good… to ruin his family, too. But he was different, now. And for some reason that he couldn't quite place, he believed Mira knew that. So yeah, he didn't know her inside and out like her sister did. He'd never had heart to heart conversations with her like that drunk, Alberona. He'd never gotten the opportunity to be in her debt for handling the rambunctious guild in his absence, like his grandfather.

But he knew that she loved her sister and her brother more than damn near anything on the planet, and that she'd seen her fair share of the dry side of mercy. He knew that she'd gone from spitfire to saint, and he wanted to know why. He knew her pretty smile masked a mountain of razor sharp wit. He knew she could take a punch, and that she could throw one ten times as hard. He knew she had a big heart.

And he knew no one cooked for her. So, he figured he could try.

The cooking was done, the spread was laid; all that was left was to unveil it.

Mirajane's cheeky remark from earlier danced through his head, and he snorted.

"All right, Miss Strauss." He walked over to where she lay on the blanket, and intercepted her as she pushed herself up by reaching forward to gently pull her the rest of the way by the shoulders.

She paused, her mouth making the smallest "O" in surprise, her eyebrows shooting into her hairline. Laxus just smiled at her reaction, finding a sort of camaraderie in the blush that stained her cheeks. His own were flaming as he let his fingers trail from her shoulders down her arms, across her elbows, to her delicate wrists. He locked his hands with hers, doing his best to bite down the carnal reaction that erupted within him at her response to his ginger contact. Her blush had grown even stronger, and god damned pearly whites once again latched onto her succulent lower lip. What was adorable earlier became dangerously sexy, and he had to make a concerted effort to tone down his neon skin before doing anything else.

"Are my eyes about to be graced with the spread of the century?" She asked coyly, a taunting grin replacing the surprised purse of her lips from his earlier caress. He met that grin with an excited smirk of his own, and chuckled.

"I damn well hope so," he replied, and reached behind her head to grab the knot of the silk scarf hiding the world from her vision. He didn't miss the soft gasp she did her best to hush or the way her hands had balled together in her lap, and with a light flick of his wrist, the blindfold fell from her eyes.

As she opened them, eyelashes fluttering and ocean orbs gleaming in the warm glow of near dusk, he felt his own blindfold fall to the ground. She was a breathtaking first sight. They sat there for what felt like hours, him kneeling in front of her with Mira looking at him like she'd just woken up to the most beautiful morning, and Laxus felt a rock climb up his throat. The panic threatened to rise again, but then, something incredible happened.

She smiled. All teeth, open mouthed, eyes wide, shoulders and chest rising and it was like she was Poseidon's wave and he was a shipwrecked sailor, and she carried him away from everything he'd ever known. He could do nothing but return the genuinely ecstatic gesture and get swept further out to sea. He sat down beside her and committed to remaining lost with her in the depths, so long as he would see that smile again. That was all the air his lungs needed.

/

Mirajane was shackled by crippling amazement. He was most certainly, absolutely not a dolt.

Wordlessly, he handed her a glass of wine, and nodded toward the food before them.

Her skilled chef's eye identified each dish, and with each realization, her hunger and awe grew. There was roast duck with a truffle glaze, garlic fingerling potatoes, peppered greens, and sautéed cayenne squash. Off to the side in an open icebox, she recognized her favorite dessert: white chocolate raspberry cheesecake. He must've asked Lisanna or Elfman about it. Her eyes brightened even more at the idea of such a thoughtful gesture, and she did something she could not resist. Faster than either one of them could've anticipated, she leaned up toward him and pressed a whisper of a kiss to his rough cheek.

"Thank you," she said, no more than a breath away from his glow in the dark blushing face; hers wasn't much better off, cheeks and nose an impossibly bright crimson… the two could probably be seen from space at this point.

He cleared his throat, and looked away, pushing a hand through his spiky hair as he sputtered out, "You're welcome. Please, help yourself."

She giggled. There was that weird formal tone again. She reached over and smacked him on the thigh, and his head snapped around with an incredulous look in his eyes.

"You, too, sir," she said, that coy kitten mouth curling at the edges again. He arched a brow and grinned, and began filling up a plate. She reached for the one he'd left, but he gently pushed her hand back.

"This one's yours," he said, an insistent air to his words. His face told her she would not win this battle, and as frustrated as it made her to be so pampered this way, she fought down the urge to protest. She simply nodded, blush still in full effect, and replaced her hands into her lap. He finished assembling her dinner, and handed it to her with a small smile. She took it, giving him a shy one of her own, and waited for him to fill his own up. When he didn't move to do so, she cocked her head to the side.

"You're eating, right?" She asked, and he nodded.

"You're trying it, first."

One thing after another was confusing and delighting and surprising her with this man. He was the strong, silent type. He wasn't one to show affection publicly. In fact, he seemed to barely tolerate it or shy away from it entirely. Rarely smiled. Hardly talked. Certainly wasn't commonly mistaken for a chef of grandeur, but here he was, having prepared an incredible meal for the both of them. He was touching her hair and holding her hand, helping her up. Filling her plate. Smiling freely at her. And Mirajane, while partial to surprises, was tired of being the only one receiving them this evening. So, without overthinking her next actions, she boldly turned to fully face him. It caught him off guard, and the confusion was painted all over his face.

"No, you are," she said, and pushed a forkload of duck toward his flustered mouth. Without waiting for him to accept, she met cutlery with lips so that he had no choice but to open up. The fork landed in his mouth, and he stared at her dumbly, cheeks puffed out. With a couple of owlish blinks, he began to chew.

She could hardly contain her laughter. Laxus looked so much like a little kid, and she found it irresistibly cute. Her wasn't a dolt after all, but he seemed to know his way around romance just as much as her: not at all.

She was swept up in the boyishly bashful glances he would throw her way, in the sweetness he showered her with in the smallest ways… like the quiet coat still resting on her back. She was enamored even by his silence. She wanted to know as much about him as he would allow, and then some.

"Laxus?"

He stopped chewing, looking at her with those velvet navy eyes, and nearly choked on the food in his mouth. She just giggled again and reached a hand forward to rest on his knee.

"Laxus, would you like to go on a second date with me?"

He blinked, and she could practically see the wheels turning around in his head. They weren't even halfway through their first date, and she was already committing to a second? She could hardly believe it herself, but her understanding from earlier was guiding her actions. They didn't know each other nearly as well as some would assume. And she wanted to change that. There was only one way to go about doing it, too. Keep doing this. Awkward, sweet, funny, delicious this. She was willing if he was.

"Yes I would, Mirajane."

A smile unlike any she'd seen on his face before bloomed across his lips, and she saw his grandfather there. She could see the carefree boyhood of a Fairy Tail child. The distant memory of dancing in Fantasia's lights for all to see. The dark interior of a tent after a tiring job filled by the hysterical laughter of his overly exhausted teammates, and his rare guffaws soaring through the joyous chorus of bonds thicker than blood. The act of filling up a plate for a woman who made him nervous.

She wanted to read the book of Laxus Dreyar. Little did she know, he wanted the same of her.

And so, they picked up each other's tomes. The spines were stiff and the pages were starchy, unaccustomed to being turned. Untouched enigmas. But the print was bold and the leather was worn, and with a sigh of insurmountable relief, they each fell open to the first page.

And this is where they began.

A/N: Shoutout to Microsoft Word's Spelling and Grammar check for suggesting about 57 times that I change "Laxus" to "Lexus." That man is a damn luxury tank and I approve of this incredibly accurate spelling recommendation.

Here's a little first date fluff for you! It's far longer than anything I've put out in this story thus far, so I hope that satiates your hunger for some Miraxus sweets. Next chapter will be Mira and Laxus playing that game of 21 Questions! ;D And then we'll be back to... angst. I mean let's be real. I luh dat shit.

Oh, by the way, I don't own Fairy Tail. I forgot that fact for a brief moment. But yeah. I don't. Ugh. I mean Hiro Mashima does and he's doing a really great job with it but like… where's the blood baths/super detailed cooking montages? Come ON, man!

Thank you for reading, and remember! Leave a review with an AU you'd like to see, and I'll do my best to bring it to life.

Blessed Unrest: I'm really interested in her younger self! There's not much canon backstory, but the little we've got is very telling... I want to play with it a lot, so you'll see a fair amount of that. As for her S-Class exam, HELL yes. That's in the works. You know how they face off against the other S-Class mages? Wellllll well well, what if Mira had chosen a path that brought her to face off with Laxus? *rubs hands together evilly* I WILL MAKE THEM DESTROY EACH OTHER.

BRSxANE: I obviously loved this idea, since this is your chapter haha! I hope you enjoy it :)

mavin: You got it, dude. I will say that it won't be every time that the chapters are this length. I am right in the peak stress levels of this semester at school, and there are a lot of obligations there. So sometimes I just neither have the time nor the inspiration to write anything overly lengthy. Sometimes it happens, though. Stay tuned for that.

xo Syd