I'm so sorry for my absence. I have no real explanation other than the fact that depression has been kicking my ass. I am slowly but surely trudging through it.

Thank you to everyone who has fav/followed/reviewed!

I promise my other stories will be updated soon!

"Yes."

"No. Absolutely not."

"It's a rite of passage."

"It's highly inappropriate."

"You do realize where we are, right?"

"It's barely six in the evening!"

"You do realize where we are right?"

Lahar bit back a groan and rubbed his temples at the infuriatingly persistent woman beside him.

Lucy shifted a bit on her barstool, crossing her legs and giving him a charming smile.

"Oh come on. It's just a few shots. Everyone is having a blast but you, and this party is for you."

He sighed, glaring at the line of shots in front of him. He didn't understand why the guild would throw a party for someone who blatantly despised them. Yet here they were, drinking and having fun, clapping him on the back whenever anyone passed him.

"Why would you people throw me a party, anyway?" He asked.

Her brown eyes softened a little. "We always throw a party for new members to welcome them to the family."

Lahar scoffed, but grabbed the first shot, knocking it back and ignoring her cheers.

Realizing how badly he actually needed a drink after everything that had happened recently, he downed the rest of them rather quickly.

"There. Satisfied?" He said curtly, slamming the last empty shot glass down on the bar.

Lucy squealed and clapped excitedly, nodding rapidly with a bright smile. Her cheeks were dusted pink, and he wondered how she was still forming coherent sentences with how much she had already consumed.

She spun on her stool, leaning over the bar and waving the silver-haired barmaid over. "Mira! We both need another round!"

Lahar grabbed the blonde and pulled her back to her seat. "Absolutely not."

"Lahar," She whined, pouting. "This is a party! Loosen up!"

Keeping a restricting arm around her waist, he sighed heavily and resisted the urge to slam his face into the nearest hard surface.

"It's been a long day. I would like to retire for the evening if you wouldn't mind." He said, keeping his voice neutral.

The blonde shrugged, wiggling out of his grip. "Do what you want."

Lahar watched, incredulous, as she turned and snagged another drink from the barmaid along with another line of shots. She knocked them back like a professional, and all he could do is stare while he wondered how such a little thing like her could have such a tolerance.

Feeling his gaze, Lucy turned while slurping at a frothy looking pink beverage, raising a slender brow in question.

He gaped at her for a moment, feeling the warmth of the alcohol spread from his stomach to his chest, dropping his cold exterior for a moment.

He eyed her flushed cheeks, how she had thrown her long golden hair into a sloppy bun. How she had a little bit of pizza sauce from earlier smudged on the corner of her mouth, and wondered how in the world she still managed to look so beautiful.

The second he snapped out of his trance and realized his thoughts, he reached over and grabbed the nearest drink he saw, not even caring if it was in someone's hands, and downed it in one go.

They stared at each other for a full minute, before her brown eyes widened in realization.

"Oooooh. Right. Yurrr staying with me." She slurred, hopping off her stool and wobbling to the exit.

Lahar followed right behind her, resisting the urge to groan as he watched look both ways in confusion.

"Oh waiiiiit." She turned, grinning at him lopsidedly. "Loookeeee." She sang.

He waited for her to pull out a key, but jumped back in surprise when he showed up in a flash of light.

The orange-haired Spirit scooped up his master and beckoned him to follow.

"Pretty kitty." Lucy cooed, petting his spikey hair.

Lahar eyed them warily. "Does this happen often?"

Loke turned his head as they walked, ignoring his master's coos and pets, "Not at all, actually. But when she does get completely wasted, she's extra affectionate…if you can't tell."

"I see."

They walked the rest of the way in silence, until they reached her place. It wasn't too bad, he supposed, besides all the pink.

He watched as Loke tucked the blonde into her bed, wrapping her comforter so tightly around her that she couldn't move.

"What are you doing?" he questioned, as she twitched around shouting to be set free.

The lion chuckled as he gathered a few blankets and a pillow from a closet, leading him to the living room.

"Do you want her glomping you in your sleep?" He asked with a raised brow, setting the couch cushions aside and pulling out the mattress.

"I'm unsure what that means, but I would assume not."

Loke shook his head, eyes filled with mirth. "Don't worry. She'll whine for a little while and then pass out."

Almost on cue, the blanket burrito on the bed stopped moving and let out a high pitched keening sound.

"Good luck with that." Loke smiled, handed him the blankets, and disappeared.

Lahar tried to ignore the pitiful blonde as much as he was able while he made up his bed and gathered his night clothes from the bag one of her Spirits delivered earlier that day. Once he was dressed in a simple pair of sweats and a T-shirt, he locked the doors and windows, turned off the lights, and then slipped under the covers.

"I'm bliiiiind." The intoxicated Spirit mage cried from her confinement, and he tried. He really did.

Laughter bubbled out before he could stop it, and as she joined in, he couldn't help but laugh harder.

When his mirth finally died out, he sighed and whipped the tears from his cheeks, before getting more comfortable.

"Goodnight, Miss Heartfilia."

"Night yummy stick ass."

"Huh?"

Instead of answers, he got snores. So with a weary sigh, he made himself comfortable and drifted off into a restless slumber.

}{}{}{

"Lahaaaaaar."

"Hmmf"

"Sweet Mavis. Loke? Lahar?" There was a pause. "Anybody?"

Lahar groaned, opening up his eyes and hissing at the bright sunlight that filtered into the room.

He was not a morning person. And whatever that loud noise was, was making him pretty damn angry. As did most things that came in contact with him in the morning hours.

Doranbolt had even given him a coffee mug for Christmas that said 'Don't talk to me, I'll break your face.'

He used it religiously.

A shriek had him bolting up and out of bed, instantly on alert. Well, as much of alert as he could get.

"I am a fucking mage of Fairy Tail. A fucking comforter should not be able to defeat me so damn easily!"

He followed the voice, stumbling along and not really comprehending what was going on, until he reached an open door.

Staring at the thrashing bundle of blankets, it all came back to him, and he couldn't help but think that this was justice.

The thrashing suddenly stopped, and there was a whimper, followed by pitiful whining. "I need to pee."

Taking pity on the blonde, he walked over and pulled out one of the folded edges… only to be trampled as she made a bee line for the bathroom.

"Gotta go. Gotta go. Gotta go." The blonde muttered to herself as she sprinted away.

Lahar just laid there on the floor staring at the ceiling, contemplating his entire existence.

When Lucy finished her business, she walked over to him and bent at the waist to peer at his face.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

In all honesty, he was fighting sleep once again, but he shrugged.

"Stretching."

"Oh. Ok." She smiled at him.

There was a moment of silence before she spoke again. "Well when you're done with that, we'll eat some breakfast. We have a busy day today."

He cocked a brow. "Doing what?"

Her smile turned sickly sweet and a chill ran down his spine.

"It's about time I summon my Spirits to reestablish our contracts, and I know they're just dying to meet you."