Started to watch Fullmetal Alchemist 2003 and boy oh boy does it make me appreciate how Fairy Tail's Anime is so close to the Manga :D

randomusername2, thank you for your review! I'm really grateful that you took the time to write it to me, and I'm glad to know you're enjoying the content! In case you got any specific character appearances you'd like me to construct, let me know :)

foxydame, thank you so much for two long awesome reviews! So much time and effort; thank you so much for mentioning so many things - I feel really appreciated with all I do. Like the random research ':D Also it's a good thing you mentioned Jellal now not having to study during the honeymoon; I'll be sure to keep it that way then. Haha, schlimazel is something I didn't know existed in English, but it's Yiddish and I love that :D Thank you also so much for so many lovely notes on the OC; I always worry he gets too much focus. Let me know if you find he does ;)

This turned out really long I'm just seeing... hope you'll enjoy.

The sun was already bidding its farewell for the day when the ship lowered its anchor. The waves swashed against the bow, the plank to walk off hitting the stone of the quay with a wooden thud.

Erza inhaled the fresh air. The sting of salt up her nose slowly abated as they wandered away from the port and into the bordering city. It was the first time she had ever visited the island – the country of Caelum, a chunk of land as big as Fiore with another half of almost the same size to the southwest. It was warm, the breeze carried over the now darkening ocean becoming pleasant instead of chilly.

Her shoes clacked against the stone as they made their way into town. She wished to be able to wear a fitting summer dress, but those were either too uncomfortably tight or simply impossible to put on by now. She wondered for the first time what she would look like in a bikini with the mound of her growing stomach, never having taken the time to regard herself in a mirror in the effort to hide the reminder at all times, seeing as it had spooked her husband.

Glancing at him from the side, she watched his features change depending on what he was taking in. There was a spark of insecurity at the sizes of the multistorey buildings, and she knew he worried about crowds he did not like to be in. He regarded the lights blinking through the descending darkness, the difference in architecture, and the hustle of the people around them. He listened to their odd yet understandable dialect, smelled the food of the restaurants they passed and felt the calm wind on his skin.

Not a trace of the previous troubles – the downright panic – was detectable, and even though she knew the battle was not fully won yet, she smiled gladly.

"Are you still hungry?" Jellal asked, pointing at the nearest restaurant. It did smell delicious, but they had snacked away all of their provisions while having secluded themselves into their cabin. There had been a few delays when what had seemed like an entire frigate of merchant ships had crossed paths with them. So they had napped away through the afternoon, cuddling close with their treasure of a memory album.

She had been absolutely enchanted by it, laughing and smiling at his entries, cherishing the pictures, notes or articles. The by now nearly ancient to-do list of his had brought tears to her eyes. Not only had she read the 'ask her out on a date' several times, but the cuteness of all of the other points, too – the warmth inside her chest having grown with the knowledge that they had done each and every one of those points.

Coming right from her most precious section of her storage dimension, she had pulled out his secret and messenger bird letters – starting at the unsuspicious key transfer up until his pigeon correspondence – and added them right then and there.

Back in the present, Erza did not have to ponder for long. The new island was exciting, no doubt, but right at that moment, Erza could not have wished for anything but resting in the arms of her beloved.

"Not particularly, no," she said, leaving him the option to vote in favour of eating should he have wanted to. He did not, it turned out, leading the way to the first hotel they saw.

"We'll just stay for the night and then see what the town has to offer," Erza beamed when he handed her the key. It was something she loved; something he knew she loved – unlocking the door to a new room; discovering a previously to her unknown place. And they were the only ones up there, the lady at the desk had said, having promised an entire floor to themselves with the decreased bookings.

Taking his hand she had only let go of for the two minutes during which he had talked to the receptionist, Erza guided them up the stairs, several flights, until arriving at the highest one. The view would be phenomenal once dawn was upon them, though with the nightlife still bustling and the plenty colourful lights and signs twinkling up at them, it was already charming.

They hardly spared the view a glance.

Lying on the bed, on her back, Erza practically liquified into the sheets as she relaxed. His lips met hers, again and again, softly, gently moving over hers, not quite peeled off yet when returning for another enamoured kiss. There was no rush, no aim. Only the love they felt as it mellifluously gleamed between them. It could have made a freezing-cold night in Magnolia as cosy a temperature as it was here, and she felt her heart warm even more than his flank atop hers could physically provide.

Slim fingers flowed through his hair, a thumb gently stroking over his ear. He sank further with every easing sigh, one hand gliding to her nape, the other securing him to stay propped up where he hovered halfway above her. There was a rough tenderness to his lips, something that told her he had chewed them off; something that told her he now allowed her to tend to them.

Neither reacted when the bells of the nearby church chimed. Neither counted to know the time.

High up in their room, it was hard to hear how the streets gradually emptied. The shops started to close, people going home while others cleaned up for the coming morning. But it was weekend, and Caelum seemed to take its time with retiring, not to mention the bars where business was only just starting.

Erza, still in her own personal heaven, had no thoughts on tomorrow just yet. Right there with him, there would have been no place she would have rather been and nothing she would have rather done than kiss him until she could kiss no more.

They were not prepared for the sudden voice where it sounded so close to them, it made them jump.

"Can everyone hear me?" Came a silky male voice. A sword appeared in Erza's hand out of reflex. Jellal had tensed, his supportive arm having become her shield alongside his body, but his muscles relaxed more quickly than hers in understanding. Her eyes still flashed about, and it took another voice to join the unexpected intrusion for her to grasp what was happening.

"I don't think the others can hear you," the younger man said via telepathy, "they can't use magic, remember?"

"I remember, you imbecile," the darkening voice returned, seeming in a hurry. "Now don't you or anyone tell them about this," it warned. "But don't worry, they won't be excluded… those dumbmen will be our scapegoats," he explained, a grin audibly stretching across his face.

Erza and Jellal exchanged a glance without moving a single millimetre. They were clearly not supposed to hear this. It made several questions arise at once – what was going on, who and how many more were involved, why they received the message when usually only acquaintances could be reached via telepathy, whether it would be discovered that they heard it as well – none of which she had the time to muse on when the sinister stranger continued.

"Listen up, men," he instructed, "we'll leave the original plan to the others and let them storm the bank by themselves," he explained, interrupted shortly by a smaller, less confident boy.

"Is that why you told everyone to stick to the plan no matter wha-?"

"Shut your face or I'll smash it in, dimwit!" The first man barked angrily. "Golden Trout, are you with Sand Smelt?"

"Positive," a bass timbre rumbled its affirmation through the connection.

"Take care of him," the apparent leader growled. Not another word was heard from the sceptic, and not another voice arose with any more questions.

Erza had requipped into her daily armour by now, holding her ear to the door. There were no steps in the corridor, but it was hard to listen with the discussion going on in her head.

"As I said, we wait for them to charge the bank and flee through the back door – only we'll be waiting for them there," the man added. "Silver Salmon, Grey Cod, I want you two to go there and take care of them – get the money to the horses and make short work of the Ethernoobs," he gave a grating noise as if to underline the run of an imaginary blade across his throat. "The rest, get in from the front or back as assigned. Help with getting the money to the back entrance and then shoot everyone – no hostages; kill the bankers if you have to. It'll look as if the Normals went berserk and corpsed each other. You'll leave through the front entrance as if you were scared customers, got it? Don't screw this up!" He hollered, receiving a gale of collective 'yes, sir's that made Erza's head din.

She froze. Without moving a muscle, she craned her eyes to look at Jellal. He stood just as still where he had peered out the floor-long window. That last yell; that obedient exclaim had been so much closer than the other voices and… muffled. Unequipping her boots – reconsidering and opting for something less clinking, choosing black tights, skirt and turtleneck – Erza snuck over to the wall bordering the next room. Had they not been told that they were the only ones having booked a room on the highest storey?

Pressing her ear to the wall, Erza listened closely. The voice was gone, as were those in her head, but a faint shuffling remained. A lookout, judging by the long distance to the street. She glanced at Jellal meaningfully.

Nodding seriously, he understood. He jerked his head towards the door. Still on her toes, Erza went to turn on the light, and, watching her husband carefully as he reached for the cast-iron handle of their French balcony, quietly opened the door at the same time he noisily opened the glass door.

He openly went to stand on the balcony, scanning the buildings down below with pretended leisure. Erza was out the door already, sword in hand, heart in her throat. She damped her breathing, keeping her head clear and focused when the voice returned – in her head just the same as behind the neighbouring door she stood in front of.

"Hold it for a moment– there's some loon looking at the street," the man said in a bored drawl. "Ah, wait, he's going back in. Good for him," he muttered, somewhat to himself. "I'll let'cha know if anyone's making the front entrance too dangerous to leave through," he reported. A collective reply came, followed by a small tantrum of the group's leader to shut them up.

Erza took her chance when noise still crowded her target's head, kicking the door open. Leaning against the window, the lean man flinched, his lit cigarette falling from his lips in shock. Withing less than a second, she had scanned the room – dark; double bed like theirs against the wall where one could duck behind; curtains to create a momentary barrier of focus; closed windows where he would not be able to shout for help; no ashtray to attack her with ember; a gun at his side, ready to be fired.

The delinquent had not yet been able to fully grasp his situation, neither his weapon, when hers already sliced the still falling cigarette in half without so much as drawing a single droplet of blood from the man. With a swing of her in a flash armoured fist, Erza knocked him out cold.

"Guess he won't be warning anyone anytime soon," Jellal stepped into the room. He was still cautious, his feet hovering more than they stood, but his shoulders were down and his features at ease.

"You don't happen to have some seal stone on you, do you?" Erza asked. They had to keep their victim from using telepathy, and although she knew one needed to touch two fingers to one's temple in order to use it – making a good fetter sufficient – the laws about telepathy she knew already varied from those they had gotten to know so far.

"Shockingly no," Jellal shrugged. She almost wanted to huff, stress starting to take hold as she feared for the lives that had been promised to be taken. "But I do have bind snake," he smirked. She blinked twice. She threw her arms around his neck. It made him stagger, nearly losing his balance. She kissed him so fiercely, he had to break the kiss after another heated moment of by sucking lips swallowed moans. "The bank," he reminded breathlessly.

Instead of letting go however, she returned the smirk she had so unexpectedly wiped off his face.

"You're brilliant, Jellal," she claimed his lips again, running a finger up his nape when parting, "I just love working with you," she pecked his cheek, then released him. It took him another moment to return to the present. He plucked on his shirt, straightening it. His face was bright pink.

"Right…" he whispered to himself, making her giggle upon overhearing.

Keeping close to the wall to eliminate the slim chance of being seen through the window, Jellal crossed over to the impotent man. A touch to his slack arm was enough, a line of almost rune-like links snaking their way across more skin than they could catch glances off. With a tug of the high collar, Jellal sat the man up against the window where he would give the illusion of continuing to keep watch.

"I saw a flight of stairs leading up to the roof," Erza mentioned. Without the noise pollution in her head, there were tidal waves of strategies coursing through her brain. The roof would be the perfect vantage point – somewhere unexpected, unobserved.

"I'd appreciate it if you let me change out of my pyjama first," Jellal grinned sheepishly.

"Oh, can you wear those overknee boots, the ones with the armoured ornaments?" Her focus switched into enthusiasm as she demonstrated with a tap to her own thigh. He could not help a chuckle.

"I'm afraid I didn't bring…" Jellal blankly stared when the glowing silhouette of said boots came into view, dangling from her hand a moment later, "…them…" he unbelievingly finished. She wiggled her brows where she held them up, tossing them at him before summoning the rest of his clothes. Clothes she had apparently taken the liberty of pilfering into her storage dimension.

When he was done changing, she felt the urge to wipe her nose, just in case the rumour about bleeding noses was really not true.

"There's the bank," Erza noted once they were on the roof. The street was getting darker, and they saw with shock how the pedestrians and previously merrily swaying inhabitants now shrieked in fear, taking to their heels at the screaming that shrilled from the seized building.

"I can't properly see the back entrance with all those storeys," Jellal squinted his eyes in frustration. At least there were not half as many as those of the hotel.

"There are the horses," Erza pointed, trying hard not to lose her discovery in the dark. "And those will have to be the mages – pretending to be drunk so they won't be questioned why they're entering the building while it's obviously under attack," she growled under her breath. One of the pretendedly toddling men was looking up in their direction, and she narrowed her eyes. He was looking for the potentially witnessing eyes on the balcony they had been warned about.

"I have an idea," Jellal whispered. She glanced at him, wondering about what she interpreted as reluctance in his tone. "I didn't want to use this ever again, but…" he answered her unspoken question. Then her theory, his mind working in sync with hers.

Her eyes grew as his fixed their tiny balcony below. There was something wild going on in them – a spark of abandon, a tempest within.

Following his gaze, she gasped noiselessly. There he was. Down below as much as right by her side. In his bathrobe, a small nameless book in his hand where it casually crossed his other wrist over the railing, and with the light of their room in his back, Jellal stood. Jellal's Thought Projection stood. Making the men below feel watched, hopefully driving them to rather choose the back door instead of front.

Erza turned to face her husband's clearing eyes.

"You're such a genius, I want to snog you senseless," she seriously declared. He laughed, returning a sly grin.

"If that isn't something I could hear every day," he cheerfully returned. He must have referred to both the genius as well as the snogging, though she knew he was mainly relieved not to have triggered any trauma to resurface, not least that he had not been accused in any way. "I can't use Meteor; they'll see," he shifted his attention back to the task at hand. "Your armour has wings, right?" He asked and she nodded. She was starting to love this more and more, surprised by how she not only not minded sharing the command but downright enjoyed it. "Can you carry my weight, too?"

"Yes," she answered, inwardly calculating the route. A short distance across the main street, diagonally, and going down, so it would be possible.

With black bat wings, they soared through the dark of the night. He unhooked his feet from her legs as she let go of his torso. His landing on the bank's roof was a second before hers, and just as soundless.

She could smell the horses and hear the dragging of coarse cloth against stone. A thud announced a bag of money where it was tossed towards the riders who were clad in long cloaks. Erza had to remind herself that these were or were going to be murderers, and that they would kill people if she did not do something quickly. Whether the victims were thieves or not, she would not allow any useless bloodshed by those who called themselves superior.

Jellal pointed towards the front of the building. Then he drew several vertical lines next to one another, gesturing at her before noiselessly slicing the air in mimicking a sword. She nodded her understanding. They waited another heartbeat, counting the loot where it was being loaded into the bags of the horses. Too many already – the assassination was due any moment.

Swords materialised above the front doors of the bank. Thrusting into the pavement with brute force, they battered the asphalt, barricading the main entrance. Erza was pregnant after all. And with Jellal's additional security of casting of Thought Projection, he was sure to be drained more quickly than usual. They would not take any chances. They would not split up if not absolutely necessary.

Inside the building, men rushed to throw themselves against the doors, but to no avail. The bank's alarm finally went off. It wailed into the night, waking every last child who had not yet gotten wind of the commotion. With only the back door to take care of, Jellal and Erza – now in stomach-covering armour again – attacked without mercy. Magic and bullets flew their way. Jellal's shield blocked any magic, and the bullets ricocheted off her blades with razor sharp precision, sliced or masterfully redirected to aid in her favour during her onslaught.

The police arrived in mystified silence, breathless and with their eyes somewhat bulging out of their sockets. Not a single man was dead. Not a single man had escaped. And not a single banknote had been stolen any further than just outside the back door.

"Ho… how…" was the first thing leaving anyone's mouth when the chief inspector unsuccessfully attempted to articulate his thoughts. They had not seen the swords appear and vanish in front of the main doors, wincing with widening eyes when Erza let the one in her hand disappear.

"Sorcerers!" One of the officers exclaimed. An awestruck murmur went through the cluster of men that had done nothing but stare so far.

"Thank god," the chief inspector nodded. The ornaments on his uniform clinked as he neared the couple. "Trustworthy heroes of our day," he addressed them. Erza raised a brow, almost amused, but held her tongue when Jellal shook his head.

"I don't know why you would say that," he courtly interrupted, making the man freeze in his tracks. Confused, he listened to the inevitable scold. "Or lower your weapons," Jellal added. Letting his gaze travel, he gave each of the policemen a strict look. "We are both strangers to you and to your country. Plus, there are some amongst them who wield magic as well," he extended a hand to indicate the unconscious heaps of burglars on the floor.

Stiffly, some of the officers – then more and more – took out their guns, but Jellal only sighed sharply.

"It's fine, just remember for the future," he chided. They obeyed, hands sinking again. Erza almost had to laugh. Distracted by a groan, she spun to see a suntanned, goatbearded culprit awaken. They had taken off everyone's masks, being met with a rather colourful ensemble who looked to be quite the international gang.

Jellal strut over to him, and she knew he had noticed, too, even with nothing but a croaking moan of pain to work with.

"Another thing that would be wise to remember when staging the non-magic wielders as decoy to have shot everyone," he raked on the collar to impale the grimly gnarling leader's eyes, "would be not to give them fully loaded guns, hm?" He patronisingly, falsely smiled. Than he rammed his knee into the boss' stomach. A choking grunt escaped the man, and his eyes fell shut again.

Jellal dropped the slack body next to another.

"This was staged?" One of the policemen asked. He was excited, rather exhilarated than scared, sparkling at them with childlike curiosity. He might have had a gun holster on his belt, but he looked more as if happy to find himself right amidst the climax of a crime novel. He reminded her a little of Jason.

"Not the robbery," Erza cut in calmly when Jellal started to back away as he had to fend off any assumptions about him being an investigator. Even the words spy and hitman fell. "We've had our fair share of investigating thugs," she put it mildly, granting the cover he sought as he slid behind her.

While explaining the situation in detail, Erza perceived how the dark street filled again. Onlookers and reporters started swarming the site. The officers had already closed off the bank and pavement in front, but the enlarging crowd pushed forward, up to and past the police tape. Amongst them – and Erza wondered why they were A: not led in, and B: why no one made way or seemed to recognise the two men – the Magic Council of Caelum.

Two men, as it turned out. Two in total. No researchers, guards, soldiers. Two men. One with hair as green as a leaf on a tree, and the other not half the size of his colleague. Jellal towered both of them, even if he would not have been wearing any shoes whatsoever.

They recognised him immediately, greeting a fellow Council Member with utmost respect – perhaps not entirely aware that he was merely working for the Four Gods of Ishgar. But they seemed knowledgeable when it came to the delinquents, at least to some extent, being of more help than the police had been so far.

Speaking of the police and not being of help, they were doing a terrible job once more – then again, they had hardly begun to do a good one in the first place, Erza thought when finding herself face to face with a young woman. At least it got the lovestruck gaping of the enthralled police boy off her.

She was not sure whether the woman was a reporter or merely bold enough to enter what could have well been a gory crime scene, but she blonde was more than happy to blather about everybody and his dog.

Erza learned that the rumours were true; that Caelum was a nation of few mages. There were no magic guilds, though mages would accept published requests or might team up to complete those, but there was hardly a reason for the Council to exist or even enough magic wielders to form guilds. Epecially not as big as in Fiore.

"It's hard to imagine," Erza nodded. "In Fiore, we even have an annual tournament where dozens of guilds – each at least one hundred members strong – compete for the title of the best team and guild members," she elaborated.

"Actually?" The woman was wiggling by now. "Are you part of a guild, also?" She asked keenly. Erza had to smile.

"I am," she proudly crossed her arms, turning slightly to put her left arm on display. "This is the guild mark of Fairy Tail," she disclosed, "champion of the last Grand Magic Games," she added. She had to. She was always proud to have people treat her family with the awe and admiration it deserved.

"Stone the crows!" The woman gasped. She took out a notepad then, scribbling away, asking Erza to spell the name and to keep posing for her to be able to draw the mark of Fairy Tail. She was downright enchanted.

"Oh, I can also just send you a picture," Erza appeased. She patted her pocket for her lacrima, remembering then that Jellal had taken it for evidence and portrait photos. "Hold on," she stepped aside, tapping her husband's shoulder where he was caught up again in a debate with Caelum's Council.

The blonde potential reporter burst with rapture once Erza had finished explaining what it was she was holding, having been bombarded with questions.

"I can contact its inventor," Erza offered.

"You know him!?"

"Of course," she had to smirk. However unknown they had been and still somehow were now, they sure were popular. She interrupted her beloved again, not that he minded. "How late is it at home?"

"Uhm…" Jellal frowned as he calculated. "Not yet dawn," he said as he threw a glance onto the screen of her lacrima, "one hour ahead, so two in the morning," he informed.

"Thanks," she touched her palm to his arm, then turned back to the impatiently hopping lady. "He won't be awake now, but I'll let him know first thing tomorrow. How about we meet again around noon in front of our hotel," she proposed, "the Port Monera," she said, being met with a hefty nod and a squeal as the rhapsodical woman left. Or was finally shoved out the door by the inattentive officials.

"We're not staying at the Port Monera," Jellal leaned over, having gotten rid of his interviewers as well.

"I know," Erza innocently clasped her hands behind her back, "but you can never be too careful, especially not with what we've seen tonight," she winked up at him. His own smirk returned. He scooped her up against him by her waist – against those damn attractive overknee boots of his – falling into her pattern from earlier that night as his eyes twinkled sultrily.

"Oh, snogging is definitely on, Mrs Genius."