It was on their fourth day of being in Magnolia 2.0 did they decide to leave the apartment building as a group and venture off into the unknown that they'd been observing from the safety of their apartments that sat multiple floors off the ground. On this particular day, it was just a bit of exploring, really. By that point, everyone was getting a bit restless from being cooped up in their apartments all day so the opportunity to go exploring was taken extremely well. And of course, Freed had been the one to suggest it.

They were essentially tourists in their own home town and it was a strange feeling to see the least.

So they walked and every now and then, they'd come across something they recognised – whether it be a street name or a statue or a park. There were small things from their world, and honestly, some of them looked out of place. Kardia Cathedral was no exception – from the way it sat nestled between the sky-high buildings that looked like they were made completely of glass or the way that it looked like it had been rebuilt about ten-times over, each time getting further and further away from what it originally looked like. But it was still Kardia Cathedral, that much was certain.

But from ground level, it was hard to see just how much had changed. So what did they do? The headed towards the one place they knew always had the best view of the town: the outskirts of Magnolia.

Except they weren't the outskirts there. Instead, they felt like they were only in the middle of it. Behind them were hundreds, if not thousands of homes, ranging from quaint and charming to large and luxurious, each with yards and white-picket-fences that screamed suburbia – a concept none were too familiar with. In front of them, however, sat the bustling city; the city of Magnolia.

What was once the cliff looking over the town was now a park. Everything had changed around them and for the first time, they could see just how different it was. Almost everything, actually. There was one thing that remained the same, no matter what world, and that was the view. It was the only reason they'd come up there in the first place (after getting lost and heading down a few wrong streets from the new street layouts that for the most part had stayed the same).

Bickslow watched as Mira sat on the grass with Blake and Ingrid, Laxus hovering nearby, scowling at almost everything in sight.

"How's married life?" Cana slurred, swaying slightly as she came to lean on Bickslow's shoulder. It was barely noon and the girl was already wasted – something that had always amazed and worried Bickslow.

"Sleeping on the couch, so, great?" Bickslow grinned as he sat down on the grass, leaning back on his palms as he crossed his legs.

But honestly, married life did suck, but then again it wasn't exactly like he was really married. After finding the laundry to the side of the small study nook (really, it had surprised them both that neither of them had decided to go through that door until the third day) and the cupboards within it, Bickslow had been exiled to the lounge. Well… exiled wasn't exactly the right word either, because he'd offered to sleep on the lounge. He was really just being dramatic when he considered it to be banishment.

It was really only the sleeping arrangements that were making the so called married life suck. You'd think it would be the whole waking-up-to-find-out-you-have-a-five-month-old-baby thing making it terrible, but it really wasn't. Ingrid was fucking awesome, and it had only taken Bickslow four days to realise that. Although, he didn't know if it was actually him him thinking that, or if it was the fact that he was having some seriously mixed feelings about everything and he'd put it down to the fact that he was in the other Bickslow's body. Honestly, he'd tried to stop thinking about it though because it just got confusing and weird.

"Aw, don't let Lucy hear you say that," Cana chuckled as she fell to the ground beside him, sipping away on the wine bottle she'd brought.

Just on the other side of the park, Lucy sat with Levy on one of the many benches by the stone fence that ran along the very edge of the cliff edge.

"I really don't think I'll be able to walk all the way back to the apartments," Levy sighed as her hand rubbed circles over her belly.

Lucy laughed as she leant an elbow on the back of the bench, resting her chin in her palm. "It's only a ten minute walk, Levy."

"And I'm only eight months pregnant and the size of a whale right now. You try walking for ten minutes like that."

"Eight months? Really?"

Levy nodded, "Flicked through the calendar last night and saw the 24th circled with 'due date' written in it."

"That's amazing!" Lucy squealed in excitement before her face dropped and she added quietly, "...I think."

"I'm still hoping we're back home by then," Levy mumbled.

As Levy turned her head to watch the children screaming happily as they ran around and played on the playground that wasn't too far away from where they were all scattered around, Lucy instead turned to look at where Mira was sitting. Instead of having Ingrid in her lap like she had before, she had Blake and it was Bickslow who had Ingrid.

She couldn't help but smile as she watched them, much like a few of the others had done – namely Laxus, Evergreen, and Freed. He was lying on his back with Ingrid on his chest, grinning as her small hands were reaching out to grab at anything on his face.

It was funny how it was only day four of being in that world (with no signs of being able to get back to their own), and even though it had been such a short amount of time, so many things had changed drastically. When it came to Ingrid, Bickslow was now all for play time and keeping her occupied when she needed to be. He still absolutely despised changing her, but Lucy still made him do it occasionally.

As Erza and Freed came to a decision that it was time to leave the park and head back to the apartments, Levy groaned in annoyance just from being told to move as Lucy helped her up to her feet. It wasn't long before they were walking downhill and into the city again, Lucy pushing Ingrid in the stroller (the one that had been folded up in the back of the car, once they'd had a chance to go back down to the garage after the entire alarm and crying baby fiasco) and Levy walking just beside her with a stumbling Cana.

And so when they finally reached the apartment building again, all of them thankful that they didn't manage to get lost on the way back, they stopped in the lobby as they waited for the lift.

Freed pulled his phone out from his pocket (apparently it was replacing his notebook) and scrolled through some things before looking up, addressing the group before him. "Alright so… I've booked us all in for a cooking class tomorrow morning at nine o'clock at a restaurant just down the street. I believe we passed it on our way back…"

"Eh?"

"Cooking class?"

"What the fuck for?"

Freed sighed as his hands went up, motioning for everyone to quiet down. "For the time being, it would be useful to be able to live to a certain… standard. As I'm sure you're aware, there are many things that are different, and that includes things like cooking and food in general. If anything, it will teach you all to understand the way the kitchen appliances work in this world," he said, walking backwards into the elevator as the doors opened.

Mira turned to look over her shoulder as she pushed Laxus into the lift. "I'm not going so I can watch Ingrid if you'd like," she offered.

"Uh… Yeah, okay…" Lucy murmured, watching as everyone but herself, Bickslow, Gajeel, and Levy piled into the elevator. "Oh… that reminds me," she began then, looking up to Bickslow as they waited for the next elevator silently. "Claire invited us over for dinner next Friday."

"Claire?"

"The one who came over the other day."

It took Bickslow a moment to get who Lucy was talking about before his face lit up with realisation. "Oh! Right. Her. Do we have to go?"

Lucy shrugged as they all walked into the empty elevator, each pressing their corresponding floors. "I don't know, maybe? It's not for like a week and a half anyway so we can decide next week. I just thought I'd bring it up now."

"Fair enough," Bickslow replied as he leant back against the bar in the lift, folding his arms across his chest as he watched the floor number change every few seconds. Wouldn't be the worst idea, he thought. Lucy had told him the day before about how the woman had apparently known them since they'd moved into that apartment, so maybe she knew a little bit more about them. It never hurts to know more about someone, after all. Especially when that someone just happened to be himself.

Bickslow and Lucy collapsed onto the lounge with loud sighs after finally getting Ingrid down for a nap. They'd come to learn over the last few days that if she wasn't in her crib and on her way to being asleep by certain times of the day, then she would scream. And scream a lot, at that. Lucy was better at getting the infant to stop crying than Bickslow was, but it was really a matter of experimentation and waiting for Ingrid to just get tired of screaming. After all, it was her own precious nap time she was wasting.

"So, what room today?" Bickslow asked as he slowly turned to look towards ucy.

Ingrid's nap time had not only become a time of peace where Bickslow and Lucy were allowed to pretend they weren't parents, but it also gave them the time to go through the apartment they'd found themselves in. They'd started it after coming from the garage after the alarm fiasco, so on day three of their searching, there were still a few things to go over.

"Um, what did we do yesterday again?" she asked, furrowing her brow as she tried to recall the previous day's events. Honestly, she wasn't sleeping much.

"The desk, laundry, and out here."

"That's right…" Lucy nodded. "Bedroom, then?"

The corners of Bickslow's mouth lifted up into a small smirk. "Damn, Cosplayer. Don't make it so easy for m—okay, fine!" he said grunt as Lucy flung one of the small cushions at his face.

So they both got up from the lounge – although a little hesitantly because it was comfortable and they really were both exhausted from the entire situation – and headed towards the bedroom that was now just Lucy's.

"I'll start over here then," Bickslow mumbled as he headed towards the set of drawers near the chair in the corner as Lucy nodded, heading towards the wardrobe that she hadn't gone through completely.

And it was mostly done in silence. For the most part, the wardrobe was just clothes and shoes. Nothing too interesting, but Lucy's eyes went wide when she saw some of the dresses she owned, that, and she had to stop herself from crying when she found the maternity clothes. It was just another reminder she wasn't really herself. She had to admit some of them were cute, though.

Bickslow let out a low whistle that made Lucy turn around, and when she saw what he was holding, her face instantly went a bright red. "Wow. Now these are nice," he said, holding up the incredibly small piece of fabric that was a black lace thong. "I may or may not be jealous of my other self right now." Mostly may, he thought.

Lucy's face resembled that of a goldfish trying to get air as she tried to think of something to say – anything to say – but instead, she had nothing. She could only make some sort of shrieking sound as she ran across the room to rip the underwear from his hands and throw them back into the drawer that was full of similar garments before slamming it shut, much to Bickslow's entertainment as he threw his head back and howled with laughter.

"Calm down," he chuckled. "They're not even really yours."

"That's not the point!" she said, the heat never leaving her face. But Bickslow was right, they weren't really hers, but at the same time… they were. Hell, they'd probably been on that body more times than she could possibly count. There was also the fact that they weren't that different from what she usually wore… but she'd rather die than let Bickslow know that small detail. It was bad enough her team knew it, but it was only because they had a habit of going through her stuff.

"Whatever." Bickslow said, waving his hand dismissively before shoving her out of the way (gently, mind you) so he could get back to going through the drawers. So far, all of the stuff was hers from what he could tell, given that the top two drawers were completely filled with makeup, and honestly, Bickslow would be the first to admit he was definitely into some weird things, but he would never be into the whole wearing makeup and lingerie thing, no matter what world he was in.

And was it a little weird he was essentially going through his not-wife-but-legally-wife's things? Yes, it was, and Bickslow would also admit that it was a little enlightening, considering he really knew next to nothing about Lucy… apart from the fact that she had a weird obsession with strawberries, almost as much as he did, considering they'd argued over it because they both really wanted to eat the goddamn strawberries, and was also apparently into some incredibly sexy lingerie, or so Bickslow hoped.

It wasn't long before Bickslow had gone through the drawers entirely, chuckling to himself occasionally or going into a slight daze when he found himself imagining what she'd look like in some of the stuff he'd found, and he was going through what was his side of the wardrobe instead.

Bickslow had always had a pretty relaxed taste when it came to clothing – when he wasn't wearing his usual get-up, that is. Usually it was just jeans and a shirt or a hoodie or something, or no clothes at all, occasionally, so there really wasn't that much difference between his Magnolia and Magnolia 2.0 wardrobes. The only thing that frustrated him was the fact that every pair of jeans he owned was incredibly fucking tight, but… after wearing them for four days, he was beginning to get used to it and find them comfortable.

The shoes, on the other hand… well, if and when they went back to their own world, he was going to miss his new favourite red Converse.

Lucy made another squeak as she pulled out a large bag, her hand over her mouth as she stared at the partially unzipped bag.

"What?" Bickslow asked, staring at the blonde and trying to see what could have possibly made her make such a noise from within the bag in a wardrobe.

"Uh… N-Nothing," she stammered, trying to shove the bag back in the wardrobe, only to have Bickslow rip it out of her hands before she could. "Bickslow!"

His mouth split into a wide grin when he unzipped it, letting the black garment bag fall to the floor around it as he held the coat hanger up. "Brilliant. Absolutely fucking brilliant," he mumbled, turning to look at the blonde whose face was a mix of shock and embarrassment. "You should see your face right now. It's priceless."

"Shut up…" Lucy mumbled as she tried to reach for the article of clothing. If it was anything other than what it actually was, she would have pulled it from the hanger, but… she couldn't.

And then, a somewhat brilliant, or the worst idea he's possibly ever had, crossed Bickslow's mind and if it was even possible, his grin got wider. "Put it on," he said, holding the white dress out to her.

"What? No!" she shrieked.

"I promise I'll be on my best behaviour for the rest of the day if you do."

"Are you insane?"

"Yes, a little."

Lucy scoffed. "Understatement," she muttered. "Why do you even want me to put it on?!"

"Because I wanna see it," Bickslow answered with a shrug.

"There's photos out there!" Lucy yelled, pointing towards the open door to the hallway.

"Not the same." And it wasn't. Photos were different to the real thing, even if he only meant it as a joke. "I meant I want to see it on you. Come on, it will be fun. Please?" he begged, doing his best attempt at a pout.

Something close to a grimace crossed Lucy's face at what she just witnessed before she sighed. "I'll put it on if you never do that face again."

And then Bickslow was back to grinning as he finally handed her the dress. "Deal."

So as Lucy stormed off to the bathroom, Bickslow moved to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands to make himself comfortable because he had a feeling it was going to take her a while to get the damn dress on.

It was her apparent wedding dress, after all.

Lucy stared at herself in the mirror for a bit as she smoothed down the sides of the chiffon dress, twirling to look at every angle she possibly could. She wasn't gonna lie, it was a beautiful dress. From the way the material of the skirt was loose enough to hang freely over her hips, to the way the thin silver piece of fabric with a small gem-encrusted buckle cinched just under her bust and the way that the fabric folded over her bust in two layers to cross in the middle.

But this was the dress that she was married in. When she married Bickslow. Bickslow. And he was the one who wanted her to put it on in the first place.

What the hell am I doing? This is ridiculous.

With another sigh, she pulled the door open slowly and padded her way back into the bedroom and to the end of the bed, folding her arms across her chest. "Happy now?"

Bickslow was honestly speechless, for just a second, anyway. He stood up and stepped towards Lucy, grabbing her arms to unfold them before he let go, folding his own arms. "Turn around."

With a roll of her eyes she spun around slowly, feeling how the bottom of the dress was fanning out slightly as she did so.

Bickslow's grin was back by the time she'd stopped. "You look really good." And she really did. The wedding photos on the wall didn't do it justice, because honestly, he thought she looked stunning. In person, anyway.

"Thanks…" Lucy mumbled as she looked down, feeling her cheeks heat up again. Suddenly the entire situation had become even more ridiculous and a little awkward. I wonder what he looks like in a tux? She thought. Wait, what the hell? Don't think about that!

And then another brilliant idea came to Bickslow. What could he say? He'd been full of brilliant ideas that morning.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Lucy shrieked when Bickslow took one of her hands and he knelt down in front of her, on one knee, with that ridiculous grin plastered on his face. What. The. Absolute. Fuck.

"Lucy 'Cosplayer' Heartfilia," Bickslow said, shuffling on his knee slightly, because kneeling in those jeans was just a little uncomfortable, as he found out. "Will you do me the honour—"

"What the hell?!"

"—of allowing me to eat the last of the strawberries?"

There was a moment of silence as Lucy stared down at Bickslow incredulously and Bickslow back up at her, the corner his mouth twitching as he tried to stop himself from smirking. But then she slowly started laughing, starting from a light giggled to a full blown laugh that had her shoulders shaking, and Bickslow couldn't help but laugh with her. It was ridiculous, after all. A part of him had done it just to make her laugh.

"You're… absolutely… insane…" she managed to get out, still not being able to control her laughter.

Bickslow stood up slowly. "Yeah, but… That's what you signed up for when you married me."

"Did not."

"You kinda did," he said, lifting up his left hand with the dark grey band on his finger and wiggling his fingers slightly.

Lucy shook her head as she turned around. "Whatever," she mumbled. Then, as she looked over her shoulder, she added, "I need to get out of this thing. Can you unzip it, please?" She'd been able to get the zip up on her own (although it had taken a little while), but she had no chance of getting it down by herself.

Bickslow froze for just another second. It's a zip, Bicks. Chill the fuck out. Not like you haven't done it a million times before… just, you know… not a fucking wedding dress. It's like the same thing anyway, who cares?!

So he reached out for the zip, expecting it to slide down easily, but it didn't. So he tried it again, and again. Nothing.

Lucy could feel the panic well up in her when she started getting shaken lightly as he tried the zip in a rougher manner. She turned over her shoulder again, trying to see what was going on. "How hard can it be?"

He looked up briefly to mumble, "Um, it's… stuck."

"Stuck?!"

"The zip is stuck." His free hand moved to her hip to steady her and she yelped slightly at the unexpected contact. He tried again then, his fingers digging in slightly to get a better grip.

"Ow!"

"Sorry…" He mumbled. "This just… This really isn't working."

"Just keep trying! I have to get this thing off." Because she didn't want to be in a wedding dress at all. It needed to go back in the garment bag where it belonged.

"I am trying!" he shouted. Then, when he let go of her hip, his hand went up to the top of the dress, his fingers dipping into the bodice of it and against her back. "Shit… This is not working. At all. Can't I just rip it?" He asked, dropping both of his hands.

She turned slightly, "What?! No!" she shrieked. Even though it was really hers, there was no way in hell she was letting Bickslow rip the bloody thing off.

"Well, what do you expect me to do?"

"Just… think of something!"

Bickslow made a mental note to remind his future wife to be (if and when it did ever happen) to get a dress with fucking buttons, because there was no way in hell he'd be dealing with the possibility of a stuck zipper ever again. He looked around the room for something – anything – that would help, then stopped at the bed. "Lay down," he said, pointing to the bed.

"What the hell is that going to do?"

"Just do it, okay?"

So with a huff, she turned and walked over to the bed, lifting up the hem of the dress to climb onto the bed, then laid down flat on her stomach as she folded her arms and turned her head to rest on them. When she felt the thick material lift up from her back slightly, she began to see just why Bickslow had suggested it. Maybe the dress was too tight now.

Bickslow shook his head as he climbed over her, ignoring yet another one of her shrieks when his knees rested on either side of her waist. Once again, one hand went to the zip and the other to the top of the dress to hold onto it and try and stop it from moving too much now that it was almost supporting its own weight

He could feel the zip starting to give when he pulled back on it, but it still didn't seem like it was going to be working any time soon. So he pulled harder, putting all of his strength into his arm and hand as he tried to get the damn thing to move.

Bickslow was about to give up when suddenly it became un-stuck and he'd pulled the zip all the way down to where it ended just below her hips. He didn't even get a chance to make a joke about the fact that she was wearing purple lace panties, because the zip finally moving had been so unexpected and he'd pulled so hard on it that the movement had caused him to lose his balance, and because of where he'd been kneeling, he wasn't able to steady himself with his hand because there was nothing behind him to stop him from falling. So he fell to the ground with a slight thud, his back on the floor and his legs slightly tangled up on the bed amongst Lucy's and the skirt of the dress.

There was a shriek, followed by some rustling and then a door slamming – what he could only assume was Lucy running back to the bathroom to actually get the thing off.

Bickslow sighed as he stared up at the ceiling, not bothering to move from the uncomfortable position he was in. He shook his hand lightly when the imprint the zip had left started stinging. That was way harder than it should have been.

"Fucking zips."