Sticks, Part I
Feb 18th — "First Date"
One minute and thirty seconds.
He'll be here, Levy, stop fretting, she told herself, clapping a hand to her cheeks while being careful not to smudge her blush. She stood, paced around the table and endured the other eaters' odd glances, sat, politely refused the waiter saying she was still waiting for her plus-one, paced again, and checked her phone.
Five minutes, fifteen seconds.
You're being paranoid now. She blew a lock of straightened hair away before excusing herself to the ladies' room (to who? She was alone) to fix her styled blue tresses back under Lucy's careful modeling, then smoothing the creases of her ocean-blue cocktail dress and freshening up some sweat-dampened make-up. She rushed back to her seat and sat with her hands between her legs, obstinately refusing to check her phone until a mid-sized family that had arrived before her paid their bill and left.
Thirty minutes on the dot.
"Ma'am, I don't think he's showing up," said the pitiful waiter. She exhaled and scrubbed her eyes with the bases of her palms, giving a weary smile.
"It was a good try anyway. I'll pay for taking up s-space—" She stuttered to a halt as her eyes locked on the restaurant's window, or more accurately the figure behind the glass. He matched the picture Lucy had provided, sure, if she looked past the mud and blood and the shovel in his buff arms. Her mouth was still gaping as she tried to come up with any reason why her best friend in the world would hook her up with a murderer. "I, uh, I err—"
His eyes, which were the exact scarlet shade of blood, met hers, and he raised a hand to crook a finger invitingly. She swallowed and made an instinctive grab for her phone to dial 911, but she got a feeling from his grim expression that the authorities wouldn't be well-received. She collected her affectations and made a hurried exit, and nearly made it across the street before his bulky hand clasped around her dress' straps.
"Where ya think yer goin'?" he asked gruffly. She squirmed as she was lifted a foot off the ground, brought to his eye-level.
"Please don't hurt me! All I have is books, no money—look!" She brandished her purse, intending to distract him long enough to grab at her pepper spray. He snorted and released her, and she hit the ground a little too hard and fell to her knees on the sidewalk.
"I'm not here to rob ya," he said almost derisively. "Yer Levy, ain't ya? I was told by Bunny-girl that ya could help."
"I—what? Who?"
"Bunny-girl. About yea high, blonde, huge tits?"
"You mean Lu-cha—I mean, Lucy?" He nodded, never breaking eye contact. "Wait, help you with what? I thought she set us up on a…on a…" She fiddled with the straps of her bag as she spoke.
"A what?"
"Ah what do you need help with?" she squeaked. He looked away for a moment, flipping the shovel around to jam the tip into the ground with a loud clang.
"My, uh, my cat died," he admitted after a few seconds of silence, blinking heavily. "Hit by a car. I wanted to bury her." Well, that explained the mud and blood.
"I'm sorry." He gave a noncommittal shrug, but she noticed how his scowl was softened a bit by sadness. "If you've already finished, why would you need my help?"
"Bunny-girl said you're smart—I was thinkin' you'd know how to send her off right."
"Wow. I'm flattered, but…" But I'm still dressed for a date, and standing out here with you looking like you were just "hiding the evidence" isn't helping my image too much. I'm already known as The Girl With No Human Friends, I don't want to be seen as The Accomplice too. "But I…"
"Please." It looked nearly physical for him to say that, and for a second, she saw past his rough-and-tough exterior and into his misery beneath. His hand was shaking slightly against the shovel's shaft, and it appeared that an extra coating of dirt was smeared against clean streaks beneath his eyes. As much as he tried to appear hard and aloof, she could see that he loved his cat and that he was truly hurting. In that case, how heartless would she have to be to leave him over such selfish reasons?"
"I… It doesn't matter," she said with a comforting smile, rising to her feet. "Where did you bury her?"
"Magnolia Cemetery." She didn't point out that that was for people, instead taking his arm despite the grime caking it.
"Well then, let's go give her a proper send-off!" He smirked a little like that, hoisting the shovel higher on his shoulder.
"Ya know, Shrimp, yer a pretty nice person." Her face flamed at the remark, both embarrassed and pleased.
"I'm not a shrimp! I'll have you know that I'm within the top percentile for heights at my age."
"Ya sure yer not lookin' at the kids' chart?" he teased as they walked down the sidewalk. She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, feeling a little chilled in the cold night air. The dress was sleeveless, as the restaurant was warm, and she expected that her date would provide a coat, but looking at the dirt stains on his, she was reluctant to ask. "Yer cold?" he asked, glancing at her from the side of his eye.
"What? No!" she said, shaking her head and beaming in reassurance. He snorted through his nose, dubious, but didn't hold the issue. "So," she said into the silence that had befallen them as they passed Magnolia Park, "what…were you doing before your cat was killed?"
"Walking," he said noncommittedly. "Nothin' special. Unlike you, I suppose." He ran a curious eye over her dress while she shrunk into herself slightly.
"I was just, uh, waiting for someone," she said, flushing slightly. "Lu-chan promised me a…a…"
"Date?" he suggested. She nodded and turned away, unwilling to see his reaction. "And lemme guess, I wasn't what you were expecting, eh?"
"I saw a picture of you," she corrected, glancing over at him. He raised an eyebrow.
"And you accepted anyway? A proper-lookin' girl like you with a guy like me?" He said it sourly.
"My parents taught me to never judge a book by its cover. That motto's never failed me once." He sniggered shortly and nudged her with his elbow. She playfully shoved back, at which he let out a loud laugh and pushed her so hard she stumbled slightly, having to regain her balance against a street lamp. "I don't think I've gotten your name," she said, gasping a little in realization.
"Redfox," he said. "Gajeel."
"Gajeel… That's weird." He snorted, then fell silent as they ascended the rising sidewalk. They passed through the open gates of the cemetery and into a field of tombstones, some small and simple and others huge and elaborate. A reverential silence encased them almost with an urge to stop and kneel at every burial she saw. She remembered visiting once before with Lucy on the anniversary of her mother's passing, but otherwise she steered clear of the place. Now, however, she was there with a virtual stranger.
"Right over here." Gajeel's gruff voice burst their bubble as he pointed out a freshly-dug spot beneath the cemetery's pear tree. She knelt alongside him, careful that her dress didn't ride up her legs, and clasped her hands together with closed eyes.
"May you rest in peace," she whispered. She opened one eye and peeked at Gajeel, who was staring expectantly with his face in one hand. "I, uh, it'd help to know more about her."
"Her name was Cupcake," he deadpanned. Levy wanted to laugh but it wasn't warranted. "I see yer face," he remarked a bit sullenly. "My little sister, Wendy, named her. She was seven back then."
"You have a little sister? Can I see a pic?" He nodded once and took out his phone, careful not to dirty it too much as he opened his Gallery and passed it over. She saw a waterpark scene featuring Natsu—Lucy's best friend since childhood and her, ahem, "not boyfriend"—alongside his redheaded dad, Igneel, and a taller and sharper-faced black-haired man with his arms around a beautiful woman with feathery blue hair and sweet brown eyes. Below them, victim to Natsu's arm around his neck, was Gajeel—she tried not to stare too long at his chiseled body—looking like the spitting image of the black-haired man, and in his lap was a small girl with long blue hair and an infectious smile. "Aww, she's so cute! And look at Natsu—he has to be like fourteen here!"
"Fifteen," he muttered, taking his phone back. "I was seventeen."
"But not any less grumpy," she teased softly, earning a short snigger.
"Three months after that, all three of our parents were killed in a car accident." Levy nodded solemnly—she had heard the story already from Lucy, then Natsu in more detail. "We found the kitten some weeks later and Wendy wanted to keep her. I thought, She could use a little happiness, and let her. She loved it like nothin' else, dressing her up for tea parties and taking Cupcake everywhere she went—except school; had a huge argument there—and after a while, I started likin' the little fur ball too."
"She sounded like a little joy."
"She was," he said with a small but sweet smile that heavily contrasted his appearance. She smiled back and gently took his hands, silently noting how small and pale hers were in comparison to his tanned, work-hardened ones, and folded them in prayer before doing the same.
"God, please bless the soul of little Cupcake," she murmured into the wind as it swept past them, bringing with it the scent of stale perfume and turned soil. "She brought joy to the Redfox family after they lost their parents, and especially to a little girl who never should have known sadness at such a young age. Gajeel, too, is hurting, although he won't show it, and he's a nice guy if a little metal-dependent, so please, I ask you to heal the souls of them and allow them to remember their cat fondly rather than in sadness. She has brought a lot of happiness to a family in desperate need of some, and while she's now experiencing that same happiness in Heaven, I ask you to ensure that the family on earth can live their lives to the fullest still. Amen."
"Amen," he repeated, opening his eyes and rubbing them with a grunt. She noticed a bit of wetness before he did, and without thinking she leaned into his side. He coughed in surprise. "What? What are ya doin', Shrimp?"
"Helping," she said. "You needed my help and I'm giving it."
"Yeah, but I didn't ask for—for—" He cut himself off as she turned, resting her cheek against his chest, and somehow her proximity unblocked him, as with a choked sound, he began to cry. He hesitated for just a second before putting an arm around her shoulders, digging his fingers into her head as he hissed behind his teeth, tears streaking through the grit on his face. She let him express his pain wordlessly, until the wind had died down and the groundskeeper was approaching, and with a small noise of surprise he was on his feet.
"Thanks," he muttered, grabbing his shovel and slinging it over his shoulder. He started back to the sidewalk, then turned to her with a half-smile. "Not the first date you expected, eh?"
"Could've been worse," she retorted with a grin. He laughed as he continued, and it wasn't until a long while later that Levy had to explain to a flabbergasted groundskeeper why she was out there in a fancy dress with dirt and dried blood on her.
