Bickslow sighed as he rolled the sleeves up to his elbows on his dark red shirt, looking in the reflection as he did so. "Are you sure we have to go?" he mumbled, looking towards the blonde in the reflection who was sitting on the bed behind him and doing the buckles up on her heels around her ankles.

"Yes, I am," Lucy said, standing up and smoothing over the fabric of the black jeans she had on. "We can't not turn up now, especially since she asked me earlier if we were going."

"You could have just said we weren't able to make it."

"Yeah, well… I couldn't think of a reason not to go," she mumbled. "Besides, she's apparently known us since we got married and moved here and she seems like she knows us well, so it would seem a little weird to turn down a dinner invitation."

Bickslow raised an eyebrow as she scurried out of the room, not before noticing how her face went a bright red before she did so and it was presumably at the use of 'us' rather than 'the other us.' But really, Bickslow couldn't blame her for doing so. It was all too confusing to be referring to different versions of themselves and in the nearly two weeks they'd been in that world and that life, he'd mostly resigned to the fact that they were stuck there.

Besides, it wasn't all that bad being there. It had been strangely entertaining learning about everything – though he did have to admit that some of the things that Freed signed everyone up for had been a little annoying, especially the day they'd all gone for driving lessons, and honestly, that just ended in disaster. Partly because they'd had to try and explain to the driving instructors why grown adults with their licenses would need to go for lessons, and partly because the cars of that world were incredibly different to the ones they were used to. Natsu ended up crashing into a wall and so did Erza, so those two had to pay for the damages, and really, it wasn't all that surprising. At least it wasn't their own cars they wrecked.

But really, it had been fun. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't getting more and more attached to Ingrid every day, but in his defence, it really was hard not to.

Pushing himself up from the bed once he'd put on his own shoes, ditching the converse for one night, sadly, he turned to the small dresser on the other side of the room – the one with all of the lingerie that made Bickslow's imagination go wild – and picked up the two rings that were sitting on top of it, right next to the jewellery box that sat on top of it.

For the last two weeks they'd been playing the part of a loving couple, but for the most part, Lucy didn't wear the rings. But if what Lucy said was true about their neighbours being friends with them, then they'd probably notice something like that and it would probably just make them ask a whole bunch of uncomfortable questions along the lines of, 'why aren't you wearing your rings anymore?' and 'is something going on with the two of you? Are you two okay?' And even though he'd love to sit there and watch Lucy try and answer those questions (because Bickslow just didn't see the point of taking his own wedding band off, just because it was a ring and who really cared?), he knew it wouldn't end well.

While they were there, they had to at least try and act like their counterparts, and that meant playing the loving couple.

"Give me your hand," Bickslow mumbled, walking into the nursery as Lucy lifted Ingrid out of her crib and held her on her hip. "Your other hand, moron," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"Huh? Why?" she asked, shifting Ingrid to her other hip as she raised an eyebrow.

"Well, if you don't have these on," he began as he slipped the first ring onto her finger slowly, vaguely aware of how awkward he'd just made things. But hell, they'd had a surprising amount of awkward moments in the last two weeks. "They'll probably ask questions, right?" he finished, slipping the other ring on.

Lucy lifted her gaze slowly and she felt like her face was on fire. Bickslow was looking directly at her; the red eyes that were the same shade as Ingrid's – no, Ingrid's eyes were the same as his – looking straight into her chocolate eyes. And hell, did she feel like he really was staring directly into her soul. Even without his magic, that's what it felt like. It was the goddamn eyes.

She was almost frozen in place, unable to look away or pull her hand away from where it still rested in Bickslow's hands, and she didn't know why she couldn't move or why her heart was beating just a tiny bit faster in her chest.

There was… a feeling. A feeling she didn't understand, and she wanted to understand it. It was the same feeling that she'd had since the first day of being there. She couldn't really describe it. It was like a warmth… a feeling of belonging, almost. A feeling of safety.

But there was something else behind it and she didn't know what it was.

Bickslow really didn't know what was going on or why he couldn't move either, but there was a part of him that didn't want to. Every detail on her face, every speck and fleck in her eyes; he noticed it all in that moment. Every single thing he hadn't been close enough to notice; until then.

His gaze lowered from her eyes, down her face and to her lips; her oh so kissable lips. Bickslow had to mentally curse himself at that moment because honestly, he had no idea where any of it was coming from. Sure, he'd noticed her in the years he'd known her, but… never really like that. Sort of. Wanting to sleep with someone who you know would never go for it was different… somehow.

But really, none of it explained why he really wanted to just lean down and kiss her; to touch her, taste her. I wonder if her lips taste like strawberries?

He was suddenly aware that he'd been leaning down ever so slowly the entire time, but he couldn't stop himself. He knew he should, because really, there was something seriously wrong going on there. And even though Lucy knew what he was doing, she couldn't stop him either, even though there was a very big part of her that wanted to just run out of the room, she still couldn't move.

But then Ingrid, who honestly became an absolute angel and saviour in that very moment, decided to make a noise – a noise that seriously could not be described because both Bickslow and Lucy had yet to read enough of the baby development books in their apartment to understand the weird sounds babies make – and effectively make her parents remember how to move and realise they had places to be, and things not to do.

Bickslow cleared his throat suddenly as he glanced towards Ingrid and then back towards Lucy, dropping his hands and letting go of hers and turning in one swift movement, rushing back out into the hall when he felt his own cheeks heat up slightly and leaving Lucy in the nursery with Ingrid.

Her thoughts were racing around, trying to piece together what had happened as she looked between the door and Ingrid.

Shit, was he about to kiss me? And her eyes went wide when she realised she'd been about to actually let him.

"Ingrid, you are seriously the greatest tiny human ever," Bickslow mumbled as he lowered her into the crib slowly before creeping out of the room. He really didn't want her to wake up and start crying as soon as he'd left the room, so as soon as he'd closed the door behind him, he waited for a minute, and only when he was certain she would stay asleep, he breathed a sigh of relief and trudged his way down the hall.

But seriously, if it wasn't for Ingrid falling asleep (it was a miracle she didn't get cranky, really), they'd still be over at Claire's apartment having dinner with her husband and two of their friends. There was only so much socialising Bickslow could put up with when he really had no idea what they were talking about, and himself and Lucy were getting fed up with having to dodge questions about their relationship that frankly didn't exist. Well, for them, anyway.

Walking back out into the lounge room with the only light on being the small lamp just next to the door, he seated himself in the corner of the sofa and put his feet up on the cushions on the shorter side since Lucy had decided to make herself comfortable lying back on what was essentially his bed.

But he didn't mind all that much, not when he had a pretty nice view down her top since she had propped her back and neck up on the two small cushions just next to where he sat. You know, if he actually chose to look, which he wasn't because she'd totally know. He may have been a perv by nature – and honestly, Lucy was hot as fuck, to Bickslow anyway – but he knew his limits and he knew what she'd put up with. Looking down her top was one that would probably end with him getting kicked out the windows, should she catch him.

"I didn't know you could play piano," Lucy said quietly, tipping her head back slightly into the pillows to look up at Bickslow.

He shrugged, sliding down slightly and bringing his knees up. "Plenty of things you don't know about me."

"I gathered that," she laughed. "But you're really good. The piece was beautiful," she whispered. And really, it had been a beautiful piece. When Claire's husband had asked Bickslow to play something after they'd all finished eating and had moved over to the living room, she'd been amazed that he'd actually obliged without a single complaint. When his fingers touched the ivory keys and she watched as his long fingers expertly shifted with each chord, she'd only been able to sit there awestruck. Of all things, she never expected Bickslow to be a musician.

There really were plenty of things she didn't know about him, but she was learning them. Slowly.

The corner of Bickslow's mouth lifted up into a small smile. Lucy had been the only one to ever hear that particular piece and for whatever reason, it felt good to know that she liked it. "Thanks," se said quietly, staring at the T.V. screen as Lucy flicked through the channels.

When he felt his eyes get heavy after a while of watching some godawful movie (or something like that. They still weren't too sure of the correct names for things), he reached for his phone in his pocket and sighed when he saw it was only a little past ten o'clock. Then again, they'd been up since 4 a.m. with Ingrid so really, going to bed that early wasn't the end of the world. So, pushing himself up from the lounge, he headed down to the bedroom to change, coming back out a few minutes later in just the dark grey pyjama pants that hung low on his hips.

"Get up," he said, taking the pillows from under Lucy's head as he leant over the back of the lounge. "You're on my bed, Cosplayer."

"But it's still early," she whined, covering her mouth with one hand as she yawned before sitting up slightly and leaning back on her hands.

Bickslow shook his head as he chuckled quietly. "Just go to bed. I know you're tired."

"But I'm comfortable here."

"If you don't move I'm just going to lay on top of you." Why the fuck did I say that?! Jesus fucking Christ. "Just go to bed already."

Raising an eyebrow, she looked at Bickslow who was quite obviously regretting his words, and honestly, she was a little confused by them. She got up, nonetheless, and after switching off the only light that was still on, she made her way down the hall and to her bedroom after checking in on Ingrid who was still sleeping peacefully.

But when she stared up at the dark ceiling in bed a little while later, just being able to make out the sounds of the city that apparently never sleeps below them that they were still acclimatising to, she wanted to curse herself for even considering what was running through her head. Every morning when Bickslow got up, she saw him try and stretch out his back and each time she saw it, she couldn't help but feel guilty. Sure, he'd offered to sleep on the lounge, but she couldn't help but think if it was really necessary for him to sleep on the lounge.

Of course, there was the whole 'weird' issue to get over, but they'd slept in the same bed when they'd first found themselves in the whole situation and nothing had happened – no awkward cuddling and tangling up, that she was aware of, anyway. The bed was big enough for them to sleep on opposite sides and actually get a good night's sleep for once, because it was quite obvious Bickslow wasn't. Not on the lounge, at least.

Surely it wouldn't be that bad. After all, she'd woken up with Natsu curled around her more times than she could count and she wasn't nearly as freaked out by that as she once had been. Sure, the guy still got kicked out of the bed every time she'd woken up like that, but that was more for him breaking in than anything. On the off chance she woke up with Bickslow curled around her – or heaven forbid her curled up against him – then she really might just kick him out a window.

No, no. Can't do that, she reminded herself. She needed the guy to help her take care of Ingrid.

With a final sigh, she switched on the lamp on the nightstand beside her, bathing the room in a dim light before throwing the cover back and padding back out to the dark living room. Not giving herself a chance to back out of it, she reached over the back of the lounge and ripped the blanket from over him, and when he sat up in confusion and trying to figure out what was going on, she took the opportunity to snatch the pillows from behind him before turning around and heading back for the bedroom without a single word.

It took Bickslow a second to wrap his head around what was going on, but when he did, he scrambled up from the lounge and jumped over the back of it and ran down the dark hall, only stopping in the door frame of the bedroom to let his eyes adjust slightly.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked tiredly, rubbing his face with his hand as he watched Lucy throw the pillows on the bed.

Climbing back into her own side of the bed, she shrugged slightly, keeping her head down because she knew she was blushing. After all, it wasn't every day she invited someone like Bickslow to bed, even if it really was just to sleep. "You sleeping on the lounge every night makes me feel guilty, and I know you're not sleeping very much—"

"It's fine."

"No, it's not," she said firmly, looking up slightly as she pulled the covers up and sat with her legs crossed under them. "I know it hurts you, so… you can sleep in the bed. Assuming you keep your hands to yourself and you stay on your side."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "…Seriously?" he asked, not even really having the energy to make any jokes, even though he knew it was a time he shouldn't be making any anyway.

"You're free to go back to the lounge if you really want to," she murmured before sliding down and switching off the only lamp, leaving the room in darkness again. "But either way, I'm going to sleep, so you decide. I'm not going to force you to do anything if it makes you uncomfortable, so good night, Bickslow." And rolling onto her side, she pulled the covers up to her ears and closed her eyes and waited for what Bickslow's decision would be.

So when she heard the quiet footsteps and felt the mattress dip slightly, she smiled slightly, though she wasn't entirely sure why.

Bickslow could only ponder her words – make me uncomfortable? Hell, being in the same bed with her wasn't about him being uncomfortable, it was about her being uncomfortable. But maybe, if she'd even offered it in the first place, then it meant that she wasn't uncomfortable about it.

Oh, what the fuck, Bickslow thought, closing his eyes. Who fucking cares anymore? Because really, the lounge was absolutely awful to sleep on and it really did hurt. Beds, on the other hand… well, they were warm, and they were even warmer when there was someone in them next to you, but he wasn't going to focus on that fact.

When February ended and Monday came around, it meant back to work for Bickslow, whatever that was. Laxus had had a call from Magnolia 2.0's Makarov asking why his company's two CEOs and senior executives (that really, turns out it was a made up title just for the Raijinshuu) had not shown up for two weeks. Luckily Laxus had been able to convince his grandfather that they'd all come down with a bad case of the flu and they'd all been in bed for the last two weeks.

So of course come Sunday, Freed had done research into the so called company they were all supposed to be working for, so when they walked in Monday morning they were actually walking into the right building.

So with a groan, Bickslow rolled out of bed, running his hands through his hair and down over his face as he sat up. Bickslow hated mornings, he really did. But in the two weeks they'd been in that world, he hadn't had a single sleep-in. He could only be thankful that Ingrid wasn't waking up in the middle of the night every night, or waking up at some hour that made it impossible for Bickslow and Lucy to go back to sleep.

But each day they were getting more and more comfortable with the routine they had formed, and they were slowly learning how to be the parents they were supposed to be and needed to be. They were getting used to the world they lived in.

"Morning, Bickslow," Lucy said cheerfully, looking up slightly before returning her focus to Ingrid as she got another small spoonful of the pureed fruit.

"How are always so chipper in the mornings?" he mumbled around a loud yawn.

She shrugged slightly, never losing her wide grin as she continued feeding Ingrid. She'd learned that the more she smiled, the easier Ingrid was to deal with, and it wasn't like she had to force her smiles by that point anyway. "I'm just a morning person."

"Obviously."

"There's coffee ready if you want it," Lucy said as she turned her head over her shoulder to face the kitchen. "And there's pancake batter in the fridge, if you think you can manage not setting the smoke alarm off this time."

"Well if Ingrid wasn't being impossible then I wouldn't have been distracted and forgotten about the stove," he grumbled with a slight shake of his head, turning one of the dials on the stove and letting it heat up as he placed the frying pan on it. Then, turning his own head over his shoulder, he asked, "Doing anything today?"

"Levy wants me to go to a birthing class she's apparently been signed up for with her since Gajeel is refusing to go."

"When's she supposed to be due again?"

With a quiet sigh, Lucy stood up and after another smile at the cooing baby in the high-chair, she lifted the bib from where it was around her neck and wiped down her face. "Nice and clean now!" she said, using what Bickslow had deemed as her 'baby voice.' Though it wasn't like he didn't have his own version of one either, because he did, and it was ridiculous because he didn't know when he'd started using it. "But I think she said at the end of the month."

"I bet Gajeel is freaking out," Bickslow mused, folding his arms across his chest as he turned to lean back against the counter. "I know I would be."

"I think anyone would be freaking out if they were having twins with someone and only had a little over a month to prepare, rather than nine. It probably doesn't help the entire situation that they're not actually together, either."

He raised an eyebrow as he watched the blonde with curiosity, watching as she turned to lean back against the counter in front of the sink, her hands on either side of her. "Fair points," he finally said, turning back around and flipping the pancake over because really, he didn't want to burn it. "But if you say it that way, then I think they have it easy."

"How so?"

"Well, assuming that we are still here by the time she has to give birth – which we probably will be – then at least Gajeel and Levy had the last month and a half to prepare for it, you know?" he said with a quick glance over his shoulder. "It's not like we got that opportunity. To learn about anything, I mean. We just got thrown into this mess and it was like, 'here's your daughter, have fun learning how to take care of her!' and we're still learning how to do that."

"That's the first time you've actually acknowledged her as being your daughter," Lucy giggled.

Shit. Why the hell did I say that? "W-Well, I mean… She basically is. You know as well as I do that if this entire situation was a temporary thing, then we'd probably be back home by now."

"I know that…"

Adding more batter to the pan and after another quick glance over his shoulder, he continued with a mumble, "Yeah, well, it's kind of hard not to see her as my own kid, you know? Sure, I'm quite possibly the worst parent to ever exist, but I still feel like a dad…" He could feel the warmth grow on his cheeks, though he was telling himself that it was from the stove not his embarrassment. "You can't say you don't feel at least a little attached to her, because I've seen you. I know you are."

And Lucy knew that Bickslow was right – she really was attached to Ingrid, just because she did feel like an actual parent. Ingrid was her daughter and she was a mother. Lucy knew she shouldn't have gotten so attached in such a short amount of time, but as Bickslow had said, it really was hard to see Ingrid as anything other than their own child, especially when for the last two weeks, they'd spent almost every single minute with her.

But there was a feeling; different from the one she got whenever she got too close to Bickslow, but… similar. When Ingrid cried, it hurt. She hated it, especially when she didn't know why she was crying, and thankfully, that had only been twice. Each time, both Bickslow and Lucy had been up, trying everything they had at their disposal just to get Ingrid to stop crying.

Lucy had always wanted kids. Not any time soon, but one day, when she found the right person.

But that didn't matter, because it really did feel like they were stuck there – that was their new home, and with that, she got a beautiful baby that was really hers; theirs. Sure, when they'd first found themselves in that situation, she hadn't wanted any of it. More than anything, she'd just wanted to be back in her own world; back at the guild. But it hadn't taken very long for that to change. It wasn't to say that she didn't miss her own world dearly, because she really did. It was just that she didn't miss it at much, and that was because of Ingrid.

Already, Ingrid's existence had brought more joy to Lucy's life than she ever could have expected. It was almost as if Ingrid made her life fulfilled… but Lucy still felt like there was something missing. Something significant, but she didn't quite know what it was.

But that didn't matter either.

So finally, after realising she'd been standing there in silence, she spoke. "You're right," she said, a small smile on her lips as Bickslow looked over his shoulder again. "I am attached to Ingrid and I do actually feel like her mother, because I am. But I feel like it goes deeper than that, too. That it's more confusing than just feeling and thinking."

"What do you mean?"

"I… Well," she began nervously. "I think it has something to do with the fact that we… became this world's version of ourselves. I mean, I think that those feelings of attachment were already there, in us, and it was just a matter of realising they were there… if that makes sense." She could feel her cheeks heat up as she pushed herself away from the counter, away from Bickslow's gaze. "I don't know, I just… I don't know. It made sense in my head. Anyway… I'm going to go have a shower. Watch Ingrid, will you?"

And just like that, it was like something clicked in Bickslow's head and everything made sense. Every feeling he couldn't describe, every moment where he truly did feel like Ingrid was his daughter, and hell, when he wanted to kiss Lucy because there was something inside of him that yearned to do so.

None of those feelings were really his. They were his… body's? No, his heart's, almost.

Honestly, it was way too confusing to even consider thinking about the possibility of his stupid heart getting involved in things, and thankfully – almost luckily – he was pulled from his thoughts by the smell of burning pancakes.

Embarrassingly, it took Bickslow way too long to find his office, but it took Freed and Evergreen just as long since their offices were just next to his.

Not much was known about the company he supposedly worked for other than the fact that it was called Fairy Tale Industries – and yes, it was tale and not tail, because they'd all checked it, three times. Of course, the least surprising thing they did find out was that Makarov was the chairman, but of course, he was mostly vacant – off travelling the world, apparently, so that left Laxus and Erza in charge given that they were both CEOs, much to Laxus' dismay. Bickslow and the other two members of the Raijinshuu seemed to work under Laxus, and Natsu and Gray seemed to work under Erza, though they weren't given the same titles as the Raijinshuu so that was highly amusing.

Bickslow stared out the windows separating his office from the main room of the 18th floor of the Fairy Tale Industries building. Dozens of desks, all of them in their own little cubicles, sat just outside his office door and each one was occupied by someone who knew what they were supposed to be doing. Bickslow, well… He really had no idea what to do.

Swinging around on his chair slightly, he put his feet up on the desk, turning his back towards the office bullpen to stare out into the city around him. It was the same kind of view as the one from the apartment, just different buildings since it was on the other side of town. Despite there being so much to look at, there really wasn't that much to actually see, so instead, he found himself looking around his office once again.

The room was dark and modern – panelled wooden walls with all of the furniture being black leather, glass, and modern. Behind him sat a bookcase filled with various books and binders, files and boxes and small trinkets. On his desk, a laptop on one corner and a lamp on the other. Two armchairs sat on the other side of the desk, and then behind them, a glass coffee table with a few magazines and stray papers, and another leather lounge against the wall, and a plant in the corner just next to the door.

Quickly, he got up from the chair and let it roll back until it hit the bookcase as he walked over to the door, pulling the cord on the blinds that was just next to it and letting them fall down, blocking the view into his office from those in the main room. It was unnerving having them all see him, watch him, and under normal circumstances he wouldn't have minded it, but it was the first time he'd really been on his own since he'd found himself in that world. Sure, Evergreen was in the office just next to his, and Freed next to her, but he was still alone. Everywhere he'd gone in the past two weeks, he'd been with either Lucy or Ingrid, if not both. Hell, he'd been with his team and his friends the entire time too, but being in that office then… It was different. He didn't know what he was supposed to be doing there.

Just as he'd sat back down in his chair and put his feet back on the desk, his office door opened and he looked up. A tall woman with black hair in a ponytail walked in, a coffee in hand and a folder tucked under her arms as she strolled over to the desk with a bright smile.

"Good morning, Mr. Theroux," the woman said. "Here's your coffee and your itinerary for the day." She placed the mug down on a coaster just in front of him and was then opening up the folder and laying it out in front of him.

"Right…" Bickslow mumbled. Who the fuck is she?!

Her arm brushed against his as she leant over the desk from behind him, arranging the pages on the desk and pointing to a different document. "Mr. Dreyar needs you to sign this one," she said, and when Bickslow looked up, he noticed that her bright smile had been replaced by a sly smirk. "And Miss Scarlet needs your thoughts on this one," she murmured.

Holy. Fucking. Shit, Bickslow thought.

Another brush against her arm and the woman stood up and walked back around the desk, "If you need anything else, I'll be at my desk," she said slowly, making sure to catch Bickslow's eyes before she slowly walked back to the door.

Bickslow could only watch the sway of her hips as she walked, already imagining what she'd look like bent over his very desk. It had become very clear to Bickslow in such a short amount of time that that's exactly what she wanted; he'd seen it and done it enough to know when someone was coming on to him. Sure, it was discreet, but he knew it.

But when he put his feet up once again, having shifted when she'd walked in, he let his mind wander, instantly going back to imagining what the black-haired woman would look like on his desk – her clothes scattered around his office and her long legs wrapped around his waist… Oh, Bickslow would enjoy that. Immensely.

He realised that if he really was stuck in that life and in that world, then he was going to need to have some fun. Maybe, just maybe, that woman would be fun.

But his gaze flicked over to the photo frame that sat just next to the lamp at what was possibly the worst moment, effectively stopping his imagination right in its tracks and completely ruining any plans for the time being. Because goddammit, the picture of himself, Lucy, and Ingrid just had to remind him that in that world, he probably shouldn't be thinking about fucking someone who obviously works for him.

But… He was Bickslow. His heart may be totally confused because of the entire situation, but his heart could stay out of it, or so he hoped.