Alright! The last one shot of day one! This was actually the first thing I ever wrote for PAPI. The idea wormed its way into my head and left eggs there that hatched and made terrible noises until I had to start writing it down. Then I backtracked, started at the beginning, and well, the characters ran away with me in a different direction. But it's still one of my favorite Nalu chapters I've ever written, so I HAVE to share it with you guys. And I'll see you three times tomorrow for more one-shot madness!

So, the scene is this: it basically takes place as though their second origins were never opened, so they can feel things and write things on their skin, but they don't get drunk from each other and they can't access the other senses. Gajeel and Levy met a different way, and bonded in the normal way in this version, though that never really comes up. Lucy did not go to Moon Drip, but Natsu did get shitfaced and Mira drew a dick on his face while he was sleeping. This was before I decided Lucy's dad was going to be a pain in the ass, so she's a lot more canon as far as her personality goes. They have NOT traded names or phone numbers, and have a strictly platonic relationship so far, where they deal with the inconvenience of being bonded to each other, but don't take advantage of the sexy fun times aspect...yet. Enjoy.

Lucy couldn't stop grinning.

She had finally done it.

"Take that Dad," she mumbled as she turned her head in the mirror again to see the small cluster of pink stars she still couldn't believe she had tattooed at her hairline, just behind her right ear. Sure, it had hurt like hell to get, but that little patch of inflamed skin marked her independence for the world to see and it was worth every moment of pain.

"Well, bunny girl, I take it you got whatcha wanted...gihihi." Her best friend's boyfriend, Gajeel, paused cleaning up his tattoo equipment as he watched her grinning her face off into the mirrored wall of Black Steel Piercing and Tattoos, his pride and joy. "Took you long enough. You been talking about getting that tattoo since I met you."

"I know! I can't wait to show Levy!" Lucy squealed, still unable to take her eyes off her image in the mirror.

"Is it done?!" Levy's voice preceded her as she stuck her head through the door from the front desk. "I missed it?! Stupid customers taking forever to choose their stupid cliché shit…"

"Hey! Don't insult my customers, they're paying your library bill, Shrimp!" Gajeel glared at the petite blunette in a way that would have had anyone else trembling in their boots. Levy just put a little extra sway in her hips, smirked and sidled up to the black haired behemoth. With him sitting down, she was just an inch or two taller than him. Not for the first time, Lucy marveled at their size difference and giggled when Levy kissed him on the nose. Hearing the giggle, Levy remembered what had summoned her from the front desk and spun around.

"Lu, let me see!" she skipped over, clapping her hands a little as Lucy proudly pulled back her hair again to show her. To the ignorant masses, it looked like a cute arrangement of pink stars, but to the trained eye it had more significance. "Oooooh! You went with Leo! What made you finally pick that constellation?"

"I decided that I wanted to choose the one zodiac constellation that best represented by freedom from he-who-will-not-be-satisfied, and I left home in late July, so it had to be Leo. Plus, it was mom's favorite. How do you think the color came out? I wasn't sure about that pink at first, but-" Lucy suddenly cut herself off as she felt a familiar sensation on her left arm.

She quickly pulled up the sleeve to reveal words appearing on her forearm. Angry words.

WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?!

With a slightly mischievous smirk, she dug in her purse for a pen as Levy grabbed her arm to see what her mysterious skin-mate had written this time.

"Wait, Lu, did you not tell him you were getting a tattoo?" Levy gasped in shock.

"Nope! I was going to talk to him about it this morning, but the jackass let someone draw on him last night with permanent marker! Needless to say, my advisor was not amused when I showed up to our meeting with a dick on my face. So, he can suck it!" In stark contrast to her angry declaration, Lucy's grin grew as she uncapped her pink highlighter with an exaggerated motion and began to write below his message on her arm.

Got a tattoo…like it? I'm so very fond of pink…hope you are too!

Lucy hesitated for a moment then added a smiley face with the tongue sticking out. She capped her highlighter and waited. It didn't take long.

you BITCH! I was driving! and I have girly stars on my neck! FOREVER!

Lucy wasted no time in replying.

Stars don't have a gender dumbass. And it could be worse. Could be a dick on your face.

They were both writing bigger than usual, trying to overpower the other. At this point they were running out of room. His next words were written on top of her pink highlighter in his red pen, but she had no trouble reading them.

THIS MEANS WAR

With a bravado the hair on the back of her neck did not fully support, Lucy stalked over to the sink in the corner of the room and scrubbed off the previous messages. Then in the biggest, girly-est block letters she could muster, she replied.

BRING IT

It didn't take long to regret those words.

The first battle began with four solid days of waking up to find inappropriate words and pictures on every possible unreachable inch of her body. Different every day, but just as terrible to find and get to. He was clearly getting help.

The first day she hadn't even noticed her new personal billboard until after being asked out and leered at by just about every sleezy guy on campus. It was the adorable gay green-haired hipster in her modern poetry class who had finally pointed out that there were better ways to get laid then to have "Call me, I'm easy" as a tramp stamp. Curse her midriff baring tops! After that, she checked every inch of skin in her miniscule bathroom mirror before showering.

Levy had become an invaluable neighbor, scrubbing whatever affected skin Lucy could find in the morning and throughout the day, because her mysterious adversary could strike at any time. And always in permanent marker. The asshole.

The second day, he waited until she was eating lunch to scrawl an advertisement on her chest.

$5 A SQUEEZE! Get em while they're hot!

It was like he knew she wore low-cut tops or something. She spent the rest of lunch hugging her chest and suspiciously glaring at everyone who walked by.

She learned to carry layers and rubbing alcohol everywhere with her. What she couldn't get off, she covered up.

But at least she wasn't taking it lying down.

She had agreed to refrain from wearing makeup since she had discovered this odd connection, as a courtesy to her partner in misery. But now…she had amassed quite the collection of waterproof eye products.

She went dark, heavy and feminine. As she traced her eyes in liquid eyeliner progressively earlier every morning to avoid his desperate effort to wash it off before it dried, she tried to picture the masculine face sporting her expertly crafted smoky cat eye.

She never succeeded. For some reason, even with her writer's imagination, she couldn't put a face to the messy scrawl she hadn't grown accustomed to in the last few months. Everything she thought of just felt wrong.

Bored in class one day, she had stumbled across a stroke of brilliance and spent her free time doodling pink hearts on her fingernails in Sharpie. Turns out it was a LOT harder to get off of one's fingernails. She had splurged and purchased a 64 pack of every Sharpie color imaginable and wasn't letting any of it go to waste. In addition to her nails, she drew large, looping vines of brightly colored flowers up her calves. She actually got kind of into it, adding to the drawings day by day. By the end of the fourth day or Lucy War I (as she was secretly calling it in her head), she had added a lion, a unicorn, and the words Peace, Hope, and Love. It was sickening in its little girl sweetness. One morning, getting out of the shower, she doodled hearts on her butt, just to see how it looked…maybe she would go get another tattoo…

Still, he always seemed to get one up on her.

On the sixth day, he almost got her arrested.

Halfway through Linguistics, two things happened, fire alarm went off, and her hands turned a sudden, and almost ultraviolet blue.

Startled, Lucy's yelp of surprise was drowned out by the piercing wail alerting them to a fire in the building. Desperately trying to wash her hands in her dwindling vat hand sanitizer, Lucy was dragged out of the building by Levy. Shortly after they left the building, Lucy was cornered by a very angry looking fireman, and was hauled out of the crowd with Levy still hanging on for dear life.

When Lucy left the dean's office, 2 hours later, from her interrogation with the fire marshal, her linguistics teacher, and the head of the disciplinary board, she thanked God again that Levy and her instructor were able to explain that while the indelible dye from the pulled fire alarm was indeed all over her hands, she wasn't, in fact, anywhere near it.

She didn't realize until she got back to her room, after purchasing some really stunning black lace gloves, what that meant.

He was here.

In her city. On her campus.

He was there! In the Humanities building. Today.

This changed everything. Up until now, there was no way to know who he was. He could be anyone, anywhere. Ever since that first real conversation, she had adamantly agreed they shouldn't reveal any personal information. It was just too risky. No matter how well she thought she knew him after months of communication, that didn't mean she really KNEW him. Hell, he could still be an ax-murderer. Or an arsonist, which seemed much more likely, considering the burns he got sometimes.

Though, to be fair, he had never resorted to pain in this war. That did say something about him. But now, knowing he was nearby, she couldn't stop her brain from wondering…did she know him? Did her know HER?

The final battle, which officially ended the Great Lucy War of x796 began on Saturday, one week exactly from when it started. Lucy was doing yoga at the crack of 11am in her living room with Levy (the blunette's apartment being too full of book stacks to leave room for standing, let alone posing) when she felt a searing pain just below her left shoulder blade.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH! What IS that?!" Lucy screamed, seemingly out of nowhere, falling over from her previously flawless headstand into Levy, sending them both crashing to the ground.

"What the HELL Lucy?!" Levy started, but was almost immediately interrupted by more pained yelling from the contorting blonde maniac next to her, who was frantically clawing at her back through her fitted exercise top. When Lucy eventually stripped down to her sports bra, Levy was finally able to see what was going on.

"Oh no," she breathed, recognizing the black lines that turned Lucy's skin red and angry as they progressed inch by inch down her friend's ribs. "Lu, I think he won the war."

"WHAT DID HE DO?! This so uncomfortable! It feels like when I got my-" Lucy cut herself off as her hand flew to star tattoo and she realized what she was about to say. "That bastard is getting a goddamned tattoo ISN'T HE?!"

"I'm afraid so," Levy murmured as she helped Lucy lay down on her stomach and headed off to the kitchen to get a handful of painkillers and a bottle of sake. Settling down next to her friend she offered the pain killers with a glass of water, then refilled the glass to the brim with sake and put in a straw. Lucy took a massive swig of the potent liquor and winced as the curvy, nondescript black line wove its way over her ribs and down to her waist.

"Holy shit on a cracker Batman, this is going to be one seriously huge tattoo!" Levy remarked, her eyes glued to the line as it kept descending past Lucy's waist and paused at the waistband of her yoga pants. "Uh oh," she said again, hurriedly helping Lucy shed her pants, leaving the poor girl prostrate on her carpet in her racer-back demi-cup bra and matching cheekies. The line swung all the way down her hip and across her left butt cheek before heading back up her back, defining the outline of a yet unknown image.

Lucy took another gulp of sake and whimpered, turning her head to face Levy. Her eyes were watering from the burning pain and a couple of tears slipped down her cheek to puddle in the rental carpeting. Suddenly Lucy was struck by how disgusting her carpet probably was. Ug, gross. She definitely need more sake.

After the fourth or so low-ball of sake, Levy took it away and left for work, apologizing in between each step. About ten minutes after she left, Lucy saw blurry lines appear on her arm. When blinking rapidly just made the room spin, she held her head still in her hand and squinted at her arm.

If this is hurting you half as bad as its hurting me, we're even. Truce?

She realized it was the first time he had directly written to her all week. In her warbly drunkenness, she realized she had weirdly…missed him. Lucy turned her head slowly back and forth, catching sight of her purse leaning against the couch near her feet. Knocking it over with a kick of her foot, she just barely managed to catch the edge of her favorite pink highlighter with her fingertips.

Fuckit, we both kno you won Nomore tattoos

agreed no more tattoos.

Wha isit anywa ? Not her finest hour, but she was really drunk.

Are you ok?

DRUNK! U should try it hehe*scribble that turned into a flower* Yeah, definitely not her finest hour.

oh man I wish I could see you right now. would make the pain so much more worth it

me tooo, im naked tho… ;)

Lucy fell into a numb, itchy sort of sleep after that. As the torture continued for hours, she dreamt a floating red pen drew lines of fire on her back.

When she woke up, her tongue was fuzzy, it was dark outside, and there was a very loud pounding going on in her head.

Wait, no. The pounding was very real. Another round of knocking assaulted her door, and she begrudgingly rose to her feet and dizzily shuffled over to open the door that would feel her drunken vengeance! How dare it wake her up! At the last minute she remembered her nearly naked state and grabbed a blanket to wrap around her shoulders, wincing as the fleece pulled at the puckered, angry black and red lines now dominating her left side. She was met by one extremely surprised pizza delivery guy.

Lucy, in her still drunken haze, raised an eyebrow and grunted what could have been a question.

"Um, …hi? You're… Lucy Heartfilia right? …I've got your pizza?" the sandy-haired delivery guy said to her boobs. "It's…uh…already paid for and stuff…I just need a signature…" Lucy signed for the pizza she assumed Levy ordered with her credit card (that glorious blue-haired angel of a bibliophile!)

"Hey, wanna go out sometime?" the delivery guy oh-so-smoothly continued to ask her cleavage.

"Yeah, no way in hell," Lucy grumbled. She rolled her eyes, instantly regretted it as her head protested, and took the pizza from the guy with one blanket covered hand, slamming the door in his face with the other, unknowingly exposing her mostly naked body to the pizza perv in the process.

That night the Legend of the Hot-Naked-Chick-with-the-Dragon-Tattoo was born at Thunder Legion Pizza. Max's expectations went up by two cup sizes, and Lucy, for reasons she would never remember, received free bread sticks for life.