It was the day before Mother's Day when Bickslow realised it was, in fact, the day before Mother's Day. It had admittedly completely slipped his mind that it was even a day at all, but in his defence, he hadn't had a reason to care about it at all for quite some time since his own mother had died when he'd been eleven.
But now Bickslow had a reason to care about it, because of Lucy, and she was a really great mother – or at least he thought so, but she'd only been one for like three months, too, so she was pretty damn awesome – and he wanted to remind her just how great she was. Plus, it was Lucy's first actual Mother's Day, since the other Lucy had only been pregnant with Ingrid that time the previous year. But regardless, it was his Lucy's first Mother's Day, and that was kind of important.
It hurt his head to think about how just three months earlier their lives had been completely different, too, so he just didn't think. There'd been no Ingrid three months earlier; no twins; no them. It wasn't exactly a very pleasant thought for Bickslow, to remember that he'd had none of that just three short months earlier. It almost didn't feel like three months, either (well, it was like barely a week off of three months, but still), but that was all it had been. It was three months he wouldn't take back for anything, though.
Still, the fact that he'd forgotten about Mother's Day and was only just realising it then was suddenly a very big problem. Bickslow realised that Evergreen and Freed asking the day before if he was doing anything for Lucy on Sunday suddenly made sense, too. He'd been wondering why they'd been more disappointed with him than usual, but now he got it. Hell, it being the day before Mother's Day made the massive amounts of guys buying flowers with their kids in the shopping mall that morning slightly less strange, too. But the 'Perfect for Mum' stickers on every second object in every aisle in the grocery store was just a little weird. Bickslow was entirely convinced giving razors as a gift was a disaster waiting to happen, and he pitied any poor soul that was actually stupid enough to do so.
Bickslow wasn't stupid enough to do that, thankfully, but that didn't mean he knew what he was actually supposed to get Lucy. Did she even know it was Mother's Day? Probably. Which meant if he didn't get her anything or do anything nice for her, he was probably not going to get laid again any time soon. Not that that was important or anything, because doing something nice for Lucy to let her know just how appreciated she was mattered the most.
And now, it was just a matter of figuring out just what to do and what to get her. But it was the day before, and Bickslow realised he really didn't have a lot of time left to figure something out. He would do like, breakfast in bed or something for her, but he couldn't cook. Lucy was on the verge of banning him from the kitchen as it was. He could probably take her out somewhere though, but Bickslow figured he'd be hard pressed to find a place that wasn't booked out or just packed all day.
But then there was the issue of an actual gift. Bickslow thought it should have something to do with Ingrid, since she was their daughter and all. He still didn't even know what to get Lucy for her birthday which was coming up faster than he liked, so how the hell was he supposed to come up with a Mother's Day present?
I should probably ask Freed.
Freed was the absolute best at gift-giving – at least according to rest of their team, anyway. Mira had always said the birthday presents Freed had always given her had been perfect, too, so that had to mean something. Of course, there was a difference between Mother's Day gifts and birthday gifts, but still, Bickslow was pretty confident his former team leader would be able to help him out. At the very least, Freed would be able to give him some ideas, and ideas were always welcome.
Stopping momentarily in the aisle, Bickslow fished his phone out of his pocket and quickly called Freed, only staring at the punnets of strawberries next to him as he waited for Freed to pick up. Bickslow doubted the man would be busy. It was ten in the morning on a Saturday. What else was he going to be doing that would make him too busy to pick up the phone? The guy barely had a life, but Freed preferred it that way.
"Yes, Bickslow?" Freed sighed once he had answered.
"Good morning to you too," Bickslow muttered.
"What is it you want?"
"Strawberries."
"Excuse me?"
Bickslow shook his head. "Sorry. I was just… staring at the strawberries," he mumbled before explaining himself, "I'm doing the grocery shopping, and Lucy hates all things strawberry – except soap, apparently – and I just really, really want strawberries…" It was really tempting to buy some, too, but he promised Lucy he wouldn't have any either while they were making her nauseous. But that was weeks ago, and she doesn't really get morning sickness anymore either… Hmm…
"Is that all you called me for? To tell me you want strawberries?" Freed asked.
"Ah, no." Bickslow dropped the punnet of strawberries into the cart and moved along the fruits section of the store – he apparently needed to go find avocados. Lucy had even underlined it and put asterisks next to it on the list, they were that important. Why, Bickslow had no idea, but he wasn't going to question it, either. "I actually need your help with something."
"Alright then," Freed nodded. "What is it?"
"Well, I'm like the worst person ever – we've already established that – but I kind of forgot it was Mother's Day tomorrow?" A woman just next to him in the aisle glared at him and Bickslow only took a step away from her. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to be having that conversation right then… Not that he had anywhere else to be doing it, because he obviously couldn't be calling Freed for help when he was at home, because then Lucy would find out he forgot. Bickslow cleared his throat before continuing, despite the fact he was probably being harshly judged by both Freed and the woman next to him (but he deserved it). "But, I mean, in my defence, I've only been a dad for like, three months. And I haven't had to care about Mother's Day for over a decade…"
Freed sighed. He'd guessed that Bickslow hadn't had any idea what he or Evergreen had been hinting at the previous day, but now he knew for sure. Freed wasn't sure who he felt the most sorry for, though – for Bickslow, who was probably feeling guilty, or for Lucy, who was unfortunately stuck with the guy. At least Laxus had remembered without being reminded. "So what is it exactly you'd like my help with, Bickslow?"
"Um. Figuring out what to get her," Bickslow mumbled. "And like, what to do for her. Because I just have no idea where to even begin, honestly…"
"Well, cooking for her is obviously out of the question," Freed began. "I'm going to assume you are still horrendously bad at cooking."
"Okay, I'm not horrendously bad, thank you very much. I'm… mediocrely bad. Ingrid doesn't complain, so there's that."
"She doesn't have the capability to complain."
"She cries when she doesn't like something." She didn't like peaches, as it turned out.
Freed only rolled his eyes. "Fine, you are only mediocrely bad and your daughter is possibly the one person on the planet who likes what you give her," he uttered quickly. Even Bickslow didn't like his own cooking most of the time, but Freed wasn't interested in getting into an argument with the man about his seven-and-a-half-month-old daughter. Ingrid wasn't exactly a good example though, considering what she actually ate, which Freed didn't even classify as food anyway… "But cooking for Lucy is out of the question."
"Yup," Bickslow agreed.
"You could take her out somewhere, perhaps," Freed suggested. "Maybe brunch, or lunch somewhere. There's plenty of places here that don't require a booking. There's always the option of going on a picnic somewhere, too, and you could just take snack foods or something similar."
"Yeah, I don't know… We had a picnic a few weeks ago. I don't really want to do that again just yet."
"Fair enough. Okay, gifts, then. Something personalised to do with Ingrid, maybe?"
"Like what?"
Freed sighed and only thought in silence for a moment. How was he supposed to know what Bickslow could get Lucy? Last minute gifts were not his forte, and Freed figured Bickslow must have forgotten that. "What about… some jewellery?" Freed suggested on a whim. Jewellery was always nice. "Maybe something with Ingrid's birthstone? Or the twins'? When is Lucy due again?"
"Sometime around the end of October if the doc gets her way."
"And Ingrid's birthday is in September, yes?"
"Twenty-first." They'd found a birth certificate when they'd been going through everything before, so they knew exactly how old Ingrid was. It was just a little depressing to Bickslow that she would be a year old in a little over four months, and even more depressing that he'd only had Ingrid for half of her life, too.
At least the twins would be different. He could make up for it with the twins.
"So that would be… sapphire and opal, if memory serves me correct," Freed said. "It would be difficult to find something with both of those stones, I'd imagine, but you could look, if you liked that idea."
"It's not bad, I guess," Bickslow mumbled. There were a few jewellery stores in that complex alone, so he could probably quickly look once he was done grocery shopping. "Got anything else?"
"A nice robe."
"What, like a bath robe?"
"Yes. They're comfortable, are they not? And I can imagine that between Ingrid and her pregnancy, there are days where she doesn't feel all that much like getting dressed properly."
Bickslow scratched at the back of his head as he looked up from the list and stared at the different types of chocolate chip cookies in front of him – he apparently needed to buy three packets of chocolate chip cookies. Again, he really wasn't going to question it. All he knew was that he wasn't allowed to go near her chocolate chip cookies. Ever. "Uh, I think she stayed in bed with Ingrid all day yesterday, actually…" She claimed they'd been napping and watching movies together the entire day Bickslow had been at work.
"See? But I'm afraid I don't really know what else you could possibly get her. Not specifically, at least," Freed said. "I think your best bet is just going to be getting her something that can help her relax, because I'm sure she's rather stressed, or at least she will be once the twins have arrived…"
"You can say that again," Bickslow mumbled.
"But anyway, just treat her to a nice day out or something. Get her things she likes. I don't really know how to help you with this, to be perfectly honest."
"No, no, this is fine. I can work with this," Bickslow replied. Freed had given him ideas, and ideas he could work with. "Thanks for the help though, Freed. Appreciate it."
"It's no problem at all. You must have a busy day ahead of you now, so I'll let you get to it," Freed said. "I'll see you on Monday."
"Yeah, see you then. Later, Freed."
He checked the time on his phone before he put it back in his pocket: 10:24 a.m. So at the very least, he had the rest of the morning and maybe a little bit of the afternoon – if he could get away again without making Lucy suspicious of what he was doing – to find something for her. That was surely plenty of time for him to come up with a gift and a plan for the day. He'd come up with more with less time, so Bickslow was fairly confident he could pull something together for Mother's Day.
For now, though, he had finish getting the groceries without questioning just why Lucy was suddenly wanting multiple jars of olives.
Bickslow was the first to wake up the next morning. Realising that Lucy was still asleep – or at least not wanting to get out of bed yet – he only carefully pulled himself out of bed and grabbed a shirt from the wardrobe before quietly venturing into the hall. He wasn't going to wake Lucy up. Partly because it was her day and she deserved a sleep in, and partly because Bickslow figured she'd be getting up soon on her own anyway. But if she did get up, he was probably just going to drag her back to bed anyway, because breakfast in bed was a necessity and it didn't really count if she wasn't in bed.
He wasn't cooking it himself though. God no. He was buying it instead, because there was nothing like really great tasting, horrible, greasy food from everyone's favourite fast food place. Bickslow was pretty much convinced it was Lucy's favourite food, they ate it so often. It was convenient for Bickslow to get it on his to and from work, so he did most of the time.
He couldn't complain though. It really did taste great, even if it probably was really bad for them (especially Lucy and the babies), and it saved the cooking and cleaning up, too. And it was Mother's Day after all, and Bickslow figured Lucy wouldn't object to sitting up in bed and eating her favourite breakfast food that he was sure her doctor would highly disapprove of.
Oh well. Bickslow really just liked making sure Lucy was happy, and food made her happy.
Very happy.
So he went and got Ingrid up, took care of her and internally celebrated the fact she hadn't cried yet, then quickly and quietly got his clothes from the bedroom to get himself dressed to leave.
He was only gone for half an hour at most, since the store was only a ten minute drive away and it was still reasonably early for a Sunday morning and the constantly horrible traffic hadn't been so horrible, but by the time he was walking back into their bedroom with food and baby in arms, Lucy was just waking up. Perfect timing.
She stretched her arms above her head as she looked to the open door at the end of the bed, and she smiled once she saw Bickslow with what she assumed to be breakfast. Breakfast was good. "Good morning," she yawned. "I didn't hear you get up."
"Good. I wanted to let you sleep in for a little bit longer," Bickslow replied, sitting back down on the bed next to her before leaning over to softly press his lips to hers and murmuring, "Happy Mother's Day, though."
Lucy had almost forgotten about it, to be perfectly honest, but then she'd seen it marked at the bottom of the calendar for the month and she'd remembered it. Lucy wasn't that bothered about it as a whole, though. Sure, she'd been looking forward to a nice day where she got to feel appreciated a little bit more, but she wouldn't have been completely heartbroken if Bickslow hadn't known about it, and she hadn't wanted to bring it up, either.
But she was glad that Bickslow had remembered. Really glad. And it made waking up that morning a whole lot nicer. Well… There was still the part where she had two babies pressing on her bladder, and that had really only been making the last week for her more than annoying. But she'd take that over feeling sick any day of the week, too, so Lucy was glad that that was over and she got to leave the horribleness of the first trimester behind her – well, what she was calling the first trimester, anyway. Mother's Day just happened to be the day of the week they just decided to mark weeks on.
But the whole babies-on-bladder thing was really not nice to wake up to. Ever. So Lucy only quietly murmured a thank you against Bickslow's mouth, before pulling back abruptly and kicking the sheets back to get out of bed. "Need to pee though."
Bickslow just rolled his eyes. Then after setting Ingrid down on the middle of the bed, he leant over the side to pull out the gift bag with the presents he'd bought for Lucy from under the bed. He hadn't really known where else to put them without her seeing them, but Bickslow figured under the bed had worked well. When Lucy came back into the room and sat down opposite him on the bed and pulled Ingrid onto her lap, Bickslow only silently handed her the bag with the food in it, just because food came before presents. Always.
She went for the hash brown first, too, of course, then reached for the bright pink bag in the middle and looked into it curiously. "You got me presents as well as breakfast?!" Lucy asked. "Really, I would've been happy with just breakfast."
"I know, but I wanted to get you something. Because, you know, it's your first Mother's Day, and I wanted to do something nice," he said. "But that being said," he continued, pausing to take a bite from the breakfast muffin. "I'm not very good at buying presents for people, so…" Bickslow wasn't going to bring up the fact he'd asked Freed for help, though. Oh no.
"I'm sure that's not true," she insisted, and reached in to pull out the object on top, which was, of course, a light grey robe. Lucy only brought the folded up material to her face to rub it against her cheek. "Oh, it's so fluffy! I'm sure it's really warm too." But it was getting way too warm out for her to wear it any time soon, but that was fine. "I love it, Bicks."
He only shrugged and silently watch her pull out the rest of the things in the bag. Most of them were just small things, like a few candles because he knew how much she loved her vanilla scented candles and her baths, apparently. And a book he thought she'd like, because she had somehow already read half of what was on the shelves in their living room. And then a few disgustingly cute and motherly things that just seemed too appropriate.
And then there was the box that Lucy pulled out last, and Bickslow quickly dusted off his hands on his pants and nodded to it. "Open it." That one was his favourite, even though he was undecided about whether or not he should have bought it at all. He just hadn't been able to help himself with it, though, because he hadn't expected to find something like it at all.
So Lucy opened it, revealing the small diamond-encrusted heart pendant with the two small gemstones in the centre of it – one, sapphire, and a large one just beneath it, an almost pink teardrop opal, Lucy guessed. "A necklace?" she asked, lifting it from the box and placing that aside.
"Yeah, well… I thought it was nice, and I'm impulsive," he mumbled. Lucy only turned so Bickslow could do up the clasp for her. "But, sapphire is September's birthstone, which is when Ingrid was born, and opals are for October, which is when what's-her-face wants you to have the twins, so, I just thought, you know…"
"I think it's very nice," Lucy said softly, and she leant forward over Ingrid just to quickly kiss Bickslow again. "And I love everything else you got me, too, so thank you, Bickslow."
"You're welcome. But uh… Was there anything you wanted to do today?" That was the part Bickslow hadn't figured out. But in his defence, he could never really tell if it was going to be a now rare bad day for her or not, so for all Bickslow knew, she could just want to spend another day in bed. That was more than fine, though. He was completely down with that. Of course, spending the day in bed would be much more comfortable if they had a T.V. in there. Maybe in the next house…
Lucy shrugged, and only watched as Bickslow laid back and held Ingrid up above him. "Not sure," she answered. "Maybe we could go for a walk or something later? I feel like getting out. Maybe we could go to that park we all went to when we first got here?"
"Yeah, we can do that. That sounds pretty nice. Anything else?"
"Nope. That's it. I'm more than happy spending the rest of the day here with you two."
"We're honoured, Cosplayer. Really," Bickslow said, then he brought Ingrid back down to brush his nose against her cheek before quickly kissing her – Lucy still couldn't tell who liked it more between the two of them. "You hear that, Ingrid? Mama Cosplayer wants to spend the day with us!"
Lucy rolled her eyes. "Shut up, you dork. And stop calling me Mama Cosplayer."
"We must be really special, Ingrid. Mama Cosplayer loves us so much that she doesn't even want to take the day off!" he continued, still, of course, ignoring Lucy. Making his daughter laugh was way too good to stop. "But let's be real here. She loves you a whole lot more than she loves me. But that's okay, 'cause we both know you're gonna be saying my name before hers." She was so close already. Bickslow was just waiting for it.
Lucy wasn't even going to respond to that, but if it was one thing she was certain of, it was that Bickslow was a certain kind of special. But that's what made him so adorably precious (and dorky) so she didn't care much. Special was good.
So once breakfast was done and Lucy was all happy (because really, food was great), all that was left was what Bickslow had long ago deemed as belly cuddle time, where Bickslow did, of course, get to use his girlfriend as a pillow. Ingrid seemed to have had the same idea at one point too, but that was before Lucy had picked her up to let her use Bickslow's head as a pillow instead. Sort of. It was just a little odd, with Bickslow laying his head on Lucy's belly, and Ingrid basically sitting on Lucy and leaning over his head. But it was comfortable, so no one was complaining. And Ingrid seemed content there, too, so there was always that.
But once Lucy was tired of arguing with Bickslow about whether Ingrid would be getting sisters (she hoped), brothers (he hoped), or one of each (which could still be a possibility, since her doctor was still certain they were fraternal, but they still had a few more weeks until they could find out), and once she'd finished panicking about how she'd have three children before she was even twenty (in her head, that is, because Lucy still only felt like she was turning nineteen soon and not twenty-three), she decided to change the topic of their conversation once again. She hadn't asked about that particular thing for a few days, and she was permanently curious and somewhat anxious about it, and Lucy thought that there was just no better time than the present to ask about it again.
"So have you found any houses worth showing me?"
"You know, I have actually," Bickslow answered. Since Lucy had basically given him free rein when it came to them moving, Bickslow had been spending almost all of his free time looking through real estate listings and making way too many calls to figure out was actually possible for them to buy, money wise – which as it turns out wasn't really a problem, or at least it wouldn't be, assuming Bickslow could keep his job.
But Bickslow had only really been looking at houses for a little under two weeks, and most of them, he really hadn't liked enough to show Lucy, and Lucy hadn't minded that at all. In the past week and a half, Bickslow had only managed to show Lucy two houses, and both of them, she had hated.
"And how many bedrooms does this one have?" she asked. She had already seen one four-bedroom one (but Bickslow hadn't really liked that one at all apparently), and a six-bedroom one too, so Lucy really couldn't help but wonder again. She still didn't even know why Bickslow was looking at anything with more than four bedrooms to begin with, because the last time she had asked, he'd only shrugged and changed the subject.
"Uh… Five."
"You know we only need four bedrooms, right?"
"Yeah…"
She pulled Ingrid back just so she would stop pulling on Bickslow's hair (honestly, she didn't understand her daughter's obsession with Bickslow's hair), and also just so Bickslow couldn't hide behind the infant. "So why five bedrooms?" she asked, trying not to let how amused she was show.
"I don't know," Bickslow mumbled. It was a lie. He did know. He just wasn't going to tell her why five was just the magic number for how many bedrooms they should have. "Spare room. Guest room. Room for when you get sick of me but can't completely get rid of me."
"If you say so," she hummed. Lucy was sure there was another reason, but she had yet to figure it out. "But tell me about this house."
Bickslow shrugged before he propped himself up next to Lucy instead. "Well, uh, it has five bedrooms, obviously," he began. He found himself getting just a little bit distracted by Ingrid, though, mainly because she decided that he was somehow entertaining and that it was also absolutely necessary that he suddenly get big, sloppy kisses on his cheek from her. Whatever. They were gross, but he didn't complain. Bickslow figured it was own fault that Ingrid was really cuddly anyway, and it made him feel real special, too, considering Ingrid only gave them to him and not Lucy.
"Uh-huh."
"Um, and it has a pool, too," he continued, despite Ingrid's affection. He wasn't ignoring her. He was just letting it happen. "And a really nice yard, so you know, when the kidlings—"
"Kidlings?" Lucy echoed.
"Yes, the kidlings. That's what I'm calling our children now. Kidlings." It sounded cute. Lucy only rolled her eyes at him. "But, you know, when they're older they could like, run around outside and do kid things, and play in the pool when they know how to swim and all."
"That sounds nice."
"It does, right? But it's in a really nice neighbourhood, too, apparently. Like, it's a twenty minute drive into the city from there, or something like that, which isn't too bad I guess, since it's up where the edge of Magnolia used to be. You know, past that cliff?"
Lucy nodded. "I know what you mean." In their world, it had just been one big massive forest, but in that world, the cliff on the edge of town that had always been the best spot to see the entire town was a park, and the forest had been replaced by suburban hell, as Gajeel had named it a few times.
"It's close to a school, too," Bickslow said. "Like, you could walk in the mornings with them or something. I guess they'd probably have to go to the high school in the city, but that's easy enough, I guess. There's busses. And the subway, 'cause there's a station not too far from the house, too…"
"You've been thinking about this a lot, haven't you?" Lucy asked softly. She couldn't keep the smile from her face as she did, either.
He shrugged. "I guess," he admitted. "Is that a bad thing?" Bickslow didn't think it was, but even if it was a bad thing, he just couldn't stop himself from thinking about everything so much. Besides, wasn't it his job to think about the future and things like that anyway? That was the way Bickslow saw it at least.
"Nope. Not at all. I think it's really nice. Because it means you care, and I love that because it shows how much you care about us."
"Which is too much."
"There's no such thing as too much, Bicks," Lucy pointed out. "But anyway. Show me the listing for the house. I want to see it now."
He quickly reached for his phone on the nightstand behind him and opened up the listing he had bookmarked as Lucy snuggled up to his side with Ingrid now lying on his chest. "Right, so, I think it's a really great house, but I mean, I'm probably biased since I think a pool would be pretty fucking awesome…"
Lucy liked the house enough to actually let Bickslow show her it. It wasn't until roughly three weeks later that they got a chance to, with the realtor mostly busy showing other potential buyers, and Bickslow not really being able to justify taking a morning or an afternoon off from work just to look at a house. But the fact that Lucy even wanted to go and see it in person seemed to excite him to no end, and Lucy would be lying if she said she didn't find it adorable. The man was far too easily excitable, but she liked it. Too much.
The only problem was that they didn't really have all that much time to look at the house that afternoon, since they were on their way to Gray and Juvia's wedding (the one that everyone was sure would be painfully awkward since they were only going through with it to save themselves from being bombarded with a million questions from their friends in that world, asking them why they were suddenly breaking up and calling off their wedding). But since they'd been heading in that direction anyway, with the wedding being at the botanic gardens a little way out of town, they'd figured they could just leave a little earlier, take a slight detour through a particular neighbourhood (it was apparently called Magnolia Gardens, for whatever reason), and arrange to see the house on their way.
It was a nice house, though – even Lucy would agree with Bickslow there. It was like the type of house she saw in her favourite shows that she watched during the day when she had nothing better to do. The ones on the perfect streets, with the bright green tree canopies covering the entire road, giving shade to the few cars parked on either side outside some of the houses. The ones with the perfect lawns and perfect gardens, and the ones where there would always be one kid playing on one driveway, or a dog rolling around on the lawn and getting in the way of someone doing the gardening.
Bickslow had said it was picturesque when they'd been driving there, and Lucy had agreed.
The house was bigger in person, too. On a screen, it didn't look like it was that big, but she'd been proved wrong as she followed Bickslow up the path in the middle of lawn and up the three steps to the covered front door to meet the realtor.
It was only when the realtor had finished giving them her own tour of the house before she disappeared outside to answer a call that Bickslow let his excitement show again, and he was quickly tugging Lucy back into the beige house with the stone columns and façade from the back patio. "Sooo…?"
Lucy shrugged and pulled away to step into the kitchen off to one side of the foyer. The dining area and what the previous occupants had used as a living room were all in the one long room, taking up that side of the house, and as a group of children ran past on the path just outside, Lucy couldn't help but smile. "I don't know…" she murmured, only trailing her finger along the marble counter. The kitchen was basically the same as the one in the apartment – just twice the size. "I like it. A lot. It's a really nice place…"
"But…"
"It's expensive. Like, really expensive…" The big house came with a big price tag. She knew it, and she hadn't expected anything else… But still, it was almost making her nervous.
"So what?" Bickslow responded, leaning on the counter beside her, in front of the sink at the end. "It's called a mortgage. And it's not like we can't afford it, anyway, because we can. That's even without using those savings, or whatever the fuck they are. And it works out being kinda close to what we're paying in rent for the apartment, too. Mortgage is a couple grand more a month, but still…" By that point, they'd already been approved for a loan anyway, and he'd already figured out what they'd be paying if they managed to buy that house (which he really hoped they did, because he loved it so much). The apartment was expensive. That much they'd realised quickly. But still, a house being expensive wasn't so bad, because it was a house and it was a really nice house. And it was the kind of expensive they could manage.
"Okay, but still, what if you lose your job? I mean, you kind of suck at it, no offence."
"None taken."
"Then what, though?" Lucy continued. "We won't be able to afford it then if that happens."
Bickslow only sighed before he stepped forward to duck his head and lightly press his lips to her forehead. "Quit being so negative and worrying about everything," he said softly. "If things don't work out, then we'll make them work, okay? I'm really good at improvising, you know."
And then Bickslow wasn't even giving Lucy a chance to say anything else before he was grabbing her hand and pulling her through the house again, telling her about all of his ideas in an attempt to make her like it even more.
It seemed to work, though. Sort of. Lucy had already been leaning towards what Bickslow wanted to hear as it was, but by the time she'd heard about what Bickslow thought they'd be able to do in each room – including how he thought that she'd be able to turn the bedroom downstairs into her writing cave so she could hide from the horrible kidlings from time to time – she'd made up her mind. Although she remained silent as they made their way back out to the front of the house to meet the realtor again, because she was thinking – or maybe it was more of a case that she was probably trying to find a reason not to try and buy that house than anything else.
But Lucy had already been thinking about it all over the last few weeks as it was. The lease in their apartment was up soon, and they were already putting off getting the agreement sent back in, just because they weren't quite yet sure whether or not they'd be needing to renew it or not. They didn't really want to, because they did want to move – Bickslow especially – and renewing the lease was just going to screw that all up… But they were really running out of time, too.
If they wanted to move and get their own house, they had to do it then. That much, they'd already talked about. The only things they really had going for them right then were that they'd get their loan, and that they'd actually found a house they both liked. That was harder to achieve than it should have been. Time, for one, was really not on their side. But time was the most important right then.
Assuming they didn't get that particular house, because they already knew there were a couple of other people interested in it too, Lucy would be just a little disappointed. But if they missed out on it, the chances of finding another house they both liked that would suit them were slim. And even if they did find a house that they wanted to buy, they still wouldn't have enough time to pack and move and have everything sorted and finalised for when the lease in their apartment would be up.
It just had to be then. If it was that house, they had just enough time, because there was only two months left on their lease, and really, neither wanted to be ticking the box to renew it. Not unless they had to. The fact it was so close as it was and they weren't sure what was going on was really not helping Lucy keep her stress levels to a minimum.
But it was a really nice house, and what Bickslow could see in each room, Lucy could see too. And she wanted all of that. She wanted the lounges piled high with cushions in the living room on either side of the fireplace; she wanted the shelves in the lounge room filled with books; she wanted a ridiculously comfortable bed to lie in all day to watch movies with Ingrid, just because she had nothing else to do; she wanted to paint the walls in what could be Ingrid's room something other than yellow. Hell, she even wanted the pool, just because it wasn't even summer yet and she felt like she was dying. She wanted all of it.
And, well… Lucy really couldn't think of any reasons to not say what Bickslow wanted to hear. Not even the fact that it was a lot of money and it was a really big thing and a huge commitment was deterring her from that.
So when they reached their car that was just parked in the driveway behind the realtor's in the garage, Lucy only shrugged as she stepped up to sit down on the passenger seat – her feet were apparently out to get her, apparently, but Bickslow found it amusing, somehow. "I really do like the house…" she said quietly.
Bickslow was leaning with his arm over the top of the door. "And…?"
She shrugged again. "Maybe we should try and buy it…" Lucy said at last.
"Yeah?"
She nodded and returned the smile he was giving her. "Yeah." It wasn't like they had that much to lose, anyway. Well, sort of. But the least they could do was try and buy the house.
"I'll be back in a minute," Lucy suddenly announced quietly as she stood from the chair. Though really, Lucy wasn't sure why she'd said anything at all. Bickslow was too busy playing with Gajeel's son, Emery, to pay any attention to her, but that was just what happens when he decides they shouldn't have left Ingrid with Claire for the day: he goes and finds the nearest baby to play with. But it wasn't like Gajeel or Levy minded… They were too tired to care. And the last time Lucy saw Ellis, she'd been with Mira and Laxus had been making a face – whether it had been on purpose or not was debatable.
So only rolling her eyes when Bickslow gave her some kind of half-grunt as a response, too occupied to give her an actual response, Lucy just slid past the rest of the wedding guests at their tables – some she recognised from the guild, though she doubted they were actually the ones she knew, but others were new faces – to head towards the bathrooms in the small building at the back of the area. But as soon as she came out, still drying her hands on a paper towel, she was walking directly into someone right outside the door.
"O-Oh, sorry!" she laughed nervously, going to sidestep the person to be on her way. But then she looked up, just to see that the person she'd run into had been one of Gray's groomsmen. "Oh. Loke!"
Lucy had wondered whether or not her spirits had counterparts in that world. Although after a while, she'd just assumed they wouldn't, because they were spirits and they were first and foremost magical beings, so why would they have counterparts in a world without magic? But then she'd seen Loke earlier in the day, and even Aries too (well, Bickslow had pointed her out during the ceremony, asking if she was the one that had surrounded him in annoying pink wool that one time), and it had kind of made her happy. Her spirits had been as much her family as everyone else had been, and she'd been upset when she'd realised that magic was just a myth in that world. But seeing them, even knowing that they weren't her faithful spirits anymore, had made her smile.
She'd been too scared to go and talk to Loke or Aries though, just in case things were different in that world and they weren't even acquaintances. Now, though, Loke was standing in front of her, whether by coincidence or not, and she could see that something was troubling him. The fact he didn't move to get past her, instead only took a single – though large – step back to put some distance between them only had Lucy thinking that Loke was there right then to actually talk to her. Maybe it's not a coincidence then…
She wondered what it could possibly be about, too; what could possibly have happened to have the Loke of that world looking so troubled and anxious and need to talk to her?
The former Celestial mage smiled politely up at him after turning to throw the paper towel in the bin. "Is everything okay?" she asked softly.
"Uh…" He swallowed thickly before quickly pointing down to her stomach. "So you're, uh, pregnant," he mumbled.
Stating the obvious much? Lucy shrugged. "Seems that way," she giggled – Bickslow's humour (or, his tendency to be sarcastic at inappropriate times) had worn off on her slightly.
"And, uh, how far along are you?" Loke asked, still awkward as ever.
"Just about four months." She was a week off what they were calling it, but that didn't mean she looked it, not when Ingrid still wasn't even a year old and it was twins. She looked closer to five-something months right then, not nearly four, and Lucy couldn't help but be a little scared of how big she'd be by the end of October. She wasn't looking forward to it. But at least she could still see her feet. She liked that.
Relief washed over Loke then, and he let out a quiet sigh. "So it's… It's most definitely Bickslow's, right?"
"Of course. Why would you ask that?" she laughed again.
"Because, you know…" He cleared his throat and looked behind him to make sure no one else was in the short corridor before looking back down to Lucy and continued, "That time we… At the New Year's Eve party…"
"…Oh. Right…"
Loke couldn't help but wonder right then if Lucy had actually forgotten about what had happened at the publisher's party, since they'd both had way too much to drink, or if she had just put it to the back of her mind to pretend they'd never slept together. He certainly hadn't forgotten…
But he wouldn't be surprised if it was the latter. He hadn't seen her since then – not since right after when she'd seemingly come to her senses about what she'd done, and left the party in a rush. But then, Loke had known her marriage had been crumbling, just like everyone else had known it. But now, it was almost as if they were back to how they'd been two years earlier, right before they'd been married at all. So maybe Lucy had just pushed it to the back of her mind and focused on fixing the problems she'd had with Bickslow.
That would've been for the best anyway, Loke figured.
And if anything, it probably wasn't even wise that he was talking to her at all. But he'd just needed to know, because the last thing Loke had expected to see was Lucy pregnant again. It was the last thing he'd wanted to see, too.
But it wasn't his. Couldn't have been, not if she was just four months like she said. And the one thing that Lucy was not, was a liar.
He only shook his head when he saw how she was just looking to the ground to the side then, hiding how upset she was – maybe being reminded of what she'd done was upsetting her. Loke couldn't blame her for that. It wasn't like he had zero regrets about it, either. He had a few. "Well, I should, uh…" he began awkwardly again, stepping back from her and beginning to turn. "I should get back to Ari then."
"Yeah… Good idea…" Lucy mumbled. She didn't bother looking up until she could no longer hear his footsteps in the tiled hall, and as soon as he was gone, she just turned to sit on the small bench on the opposite wall.
She'd been in such a good mood that day, too, being able to go and see the house and talk about placing an offer on it, and then getting to spend the afternoon in the botanic gardens for the wedding. But now her good day was ruined, because she was hating her other self and herself, and that hurt.
Lucy wondered if how she felt then was how Bickslow had felt when he'd found out about his other self sleeping with the assistant. She almost hoped that it wasn't, just because it sucked. She was miserable right then. All she wanted to do was go home and curl up in bed by herself (well, with Ingrid, too, she supposed, but Ingrid was little and she loved Ingrid so Ingrid didn't count), and most definitely avoid Bickslow. Though how she would avoid Bickslow, Lucy had absolutely no idea. Avoiding someone was difficult when she lived with that someone.
But if she didn't avoid Bickslow, he'd know something was wrong, and he'd be annoying about making her talk about it, and then he'd find out that her other self slept with Loke, and then he'd probably be mad at her like she had been with him, and… she'd be even more miserable. There was just no way to not be miserable, Lucy realised, and she hated that.
She hated that just as much as she hated the fact that her other self had cheated on her husband. It was bad enough the other Bickslow had, but this was so much worse for Lucy. It was different because she was the one feeling guilty over something she hadn't even really done, and that hurt her more than finding out about Bickslow had. Even then, that had partly been because she'd still had what her other self felt there, and it had made her feel like the one she'd been cheated on. But now, this time, it was just her own feelings, yet she was still the one that felt guilty.
Lucy heard more footsteps then from the opposite end of the hall, and she only quickly turned her face away to try and brush away the few tears that had already begun to fall without ruining her makeup. But then they were sitting down on the bench next to her and letting out an all too familiar sigh, and Lucy felt herself freeze. Had he been listening to that?
"So… Loke, huh?" Bickslow mumbled.
Apparently so. "U-Um, yeah… I guess." She couldn't lie, not when he already knew.
Well, it stung. Bickslow hadn't meant to hear it, either. He'd been heading for the bathroom, but then he'd heard Loke ask if they were even his children, and it had taken Bickslow all of two seconds to figure out why that was even a question. But he hadn't just been able to walk in there when Lucy had still been talking to Loke. Walking in there would have been a horrible idea, considering the circumstances, because then Loke would know that he knew, and… That would have been painful for everyone, and really, it was already painful enough as it was.
Aside from the fact that Bickslow was now beginning to wonder whether or not the twins were his (he still assumed they were, because he was pretty much convinced their other selves had somehow sorted things out between whenever it had gone wrong in the first place, and Valentine's Day), he wasn't even that mad. It fucking hurt, because he was picturing his Lucy with Loke, but that was it. It was their other selves with the problems, not them. He hadn't cheated on anyone, and neither had Lucy. He didn't really have that much of a reason to be hurt.
And even then, Bickslow didn't feel like he was allowed to be mad or hurt over it, either. It would make him a hypocrite if he was, because as much as he wanted to completely forget about his other self and just move on from everything that had happened and made things more problematic than he'd ever thought possible, he still felt guilty. It wasn't like he wanted to, because he hated feeling horrible over something he hadn't really done. But part of that guilt was still his own, too. He'd still been the one to hurt Lucy, in a way, because she'd been hurt finding out too.
But maybe what was bothering Bickslow the most right then was that Lucy was experiencing that guilt that he'd felt before. He knew she was; she was terrible at hiding it. And he was worried about what it would do to her, considering it was still bothering him.
He didn't even know what he was supposed to say right then, though. He didn't exactly want to lie and say that it didn't bother him, and that he wasn't hurt… Because he was. He was just ignoring it as best he could, because he had no real reason to be hurt. He could probably bring up the fact that their other selves had probably been close to getting divorced at some point, hope that it would make Lucy feel better about it, but even that seemed like a bad idea. Bickslow already knew he couldn't make some half-hearted joke about that time he'd asked if she was dating Loke as part of his vague apology for what had happened before the Fantasia parade, either.
And even then, did Lucy want him to say anything? Maybe it was just one of those times where it was better he not say anything at all.
That being said, though… There was just one thing Bickslow wanted to say. And do. Because he was a hypocrite. And he was really fucking mad at Loke, partly because the guy had fucked his sort-of wife, and partly because he'd ruined his good mood. Screw Loke.
So Bickslow only stretched his arms above his head and flexed his hand and his knuckles before him before letting out another sigh. "I've been looking for a reason to punch that asshole for way too long." He'd never really liked Loke when the guild had still been a thing, and after the guy (er, spirit) had sent him halfway across the damn town, he'd liked him even less. That shit had hurt. A lot. And Bickslow considered this payback. Sort of.
If Lucy had any issues with that though, she didn't say anything. Not that Bickslow cared right then anyway, because he really, really wanted to punch Loke in the face right then. He really liked punching people in that world, too, apparently. Mostly Natsu, as it turns out, but still.
Besides, Bickslow was just the type of person to punch someone at a wedding and ruin a relationship in the process. But he figured Loke deserved that.