A/N: I'm the last person anyone will go to if they want to talk about basketball, so bear with me for any amateur basketball knowledge I'll mess up on. Leave a review later, please?

rockifi: you got your wish (; enjoy!

Decoding

Laxus Dreyar was entirely too many things: too hot, too rich, too manipulating. And he has his sights set out for a certain, unsuspecting Heartfillia.

Chapter Five

A Foul Play

Because of the erratic days which the student council was required to meet up, Lucy had called Mirajane to inform the white haired beauty about her dilemma. Thankfully, the older female didn't find it a problem and was more than flexible to allow her to switch up the days she worked so it wouldn't clash with her 'after school activities.'

But even with that problem out of the way, Lucy was faced with another one today.

She stood in the middle of the pristine white locker room (if it could even be called that—it was more like a luxurious bathhouse without the saunas and Jacuzzi) and stared at the mascot costume with wide eyes. Fairy Tail's mascot was the Emperor Bird-of-Paradise, and though the costume was a hundred times bigger than the actual bird, it's wide array of colors and additional detail was precise to a tee. It consisted of a detachable head and body suit that connected straight down to the clawed gray feet. Between the wings and colorful tail feathers, Fairy Tail's unmistakable symbol was stitched on its back.

It was beautiful, really, but there was no way they were going to stuff her into that hundred-degree looking suit. Nuh-uh.

She didn't even agree to be in this getup! That cunning bastard…

"Heartfilla-san, the game is starting soon," Freed knocked from the outside. She must have taken too long staring at the costume with refusal that they had to send someone in to check up on her. "Is there something wrong with the costume?"

"Um, no!" Just the fact that it was going to give her a heat wave halfway through the game, she thought bitterly.

"Do you need assistance?"

Lucy widened her eyes. Assistance, as in, him coming in to help her? No thanks! "N-no!" she replied hastily, "I'll be out in five minutes!"

"Alright, I'll wait out here," he said. Lucy double checked to make sure that the door was locked before grudgingly taking off her uniform. It wasn't that she didn't trust the green haired male. He was too emotionally constipated to do anything out of the norm, and she doubted he even had hormones—but it was a better-safe-than-sorry situation.

Leaving on only her pink camisole and spandex shorts, she shimmied into the costume and picked up the head of the plush bird. It didn't smell like sweat, and she blew out a relieved breath. The door clicked as it unlock and she waddled out to the waiting Vice President. She knew looked ridiculous, but Freed only gave a slight nod and led her to the game court.

The crowd, consisting of mostly girls, didn't come to life until the teams filed out on either side of the gym. Lucy recognized a few people on the home team, Jet and Droy being one of them, along with familiar faces she'd seen in her classes. She didn't tell anyone about being the mascot, but frankly, no one paid any attention to her. She was like an abandoned, oversized plush toy in the corner of a dump ally. They were only interested in the hot basketball players.

"You can do this, Lucy," she muttered to herself. All she had to do was run and flail her arms around until the end of the game, right? It was probably better that nobody paid attention to her. Why the school even bothered to have the plush mascot, she didn't know. It didn't even qualify as the very last on the 'things that attract rich crowds' list.

The whistle blew, and the crowd cheered. It was her cue to start moving.

.

.

.

Damn it!

Every time the basketball got thrown out of bound, it never failed to hit her in the head. Only then would the fans take notice of her, if only to stop and giggle. Even though Lucy was safely concealed under the bird suit, it was still embarrassing!

Lucy cursed. She was sure the bastard was enjoying every minute of it. Under the pretence of trying to liven up the fans (though they needed none), she took a quick scan of the home crowd. There, sitting square in the middle of the specially-costumed-bleachers-for-rich-asses was the blond haired prez, surrounded by three exceptionally beautiful black haired females.

Seeing him made her insides boil. Here she was, hot and sticky from jumping around in this heavy getup, while he seemed to be enjoying the evening with his girlfriends. Oh, she wished she could stuff him into a chicken suit.

He noticed her and smirked.

Lucy growled.

The whistle blew again, indicating half-time. The fans cheered; it was apparently a tie game at the moment, though Lucy had a feeling they weren't cheering for the game. The players from home and visitors huddled up by their coaches for a drink and new game plan. Lucy took this time as an excuse to take a breather out in the hall.

She took off the heavy head once she stepped out. It felt so good to have cool air chilling her face, she desperately wished she could take the rest of the costume off. She had thirty more minutes of hell in this, quite ironically, bird of paradise costume.

Feeling a bit thirsty, Lucy hobbled over to the water fountain for a drink. She tried to grasp the cup provided, but it was impossible with what she was wearing. The costume didn't even have finger holes; it was just one solid wing. She tried with both hands—er, wings, but that only proved to knock the cup to the ground.

"I can't believe this!" she threw her wings in the air, giving up. Public school water fountains were, by a long shot, more handy and convenient.

"Eh," a voice chuckled behind her amusingly. Lucy gasped when she faced the star player of Sabertooth. Sting Eucliffe was his name, if her memory didn't fail her after all the screaming from the female population. He titled his slightly sweating head; his one-shade-lighter blond hair glistened under the hall chandeliers as he reached across for a cup. "Allow me, blondie."

Cold, sparkling water poured out of the nuzzle and filled up the paper cup. Sting handed her the cup and smirked. Lucy blushed prettily and took it with her winged hands, careful not to let it spill as she brought it up to her dry lips. "You're blond too," she muttered.

Said male chuckled, and Lucy peered over her cup to get a better look at the basketball star. He small scar on his right brow made him loosely resemble the president, but his eyes slanted more and he was slightly slimmer. "I can't believe they made a cute girl wear the mascot costume!" he laughed, flashing Lucy a triumph smirk. "Say, these fairies haven't been treatin' you well, have they?"

Lucy chose not to reply. What was she suppose to say, 'Oh, they've been treating me fine, except for a certain hideous, pompous, controlling troll who's out to make my life miserable. Why, you ask? Because I most likely ruined a very expensive shirt of his?'

"Fairy Tail's a shit school anyway," he said. That struck a nerve within Lucy; sure, she's had some downs with the school (namely the president), but Fairy Tail was wonderful. Most of the people here were nice, and the headmaster—he was a wonder of his own for letting people like her and Levy have an opportunity to experience it themselves. "We're the best out there; Fairy Tail can't compare to a fly," he boasted arrogantly. "I say you switch to us while you can blondie."

"You-"

"I'm afraid she won't be able to, Eucliffe." To Lucy's surprise, Laxus replied for her as he dropped an arm around her shoulders protectively, pulling her back to his chest as far as the costume would allow. The motion made her drop the empty cup. "She wouldn't do anything to jeopardize her scholarship."

"Hoh? She's a scholarship-funded commoner?" That caused Sting to laugh louder with mock, "I always knew Fairy Tail was losing its prestige."

"I suggest you get back to your game, Eucliffe." If Laxus was angered by the basketball star's insult, he didn't show it. "You wouldn't want to sit out for the next half; although…Fairy Tail will win either way."

Sting growled and was ready to strike when the doors opened to reveal a shaggy black haired male. "Sting, coach is looking for you."

"You got lucky this time," he finally spat after a short stare-down, turning his heels to follow his teammate. "Prepare to lose, fairies."

Blond males, Lucy concluded, were all unpleasant assholes. She still could have easily told the Sabertooth off, the blond president's intervention was completely unnecessary, and quite frankly, insulting. "I didn't need your help," she glared, throwing his toned arm off her shoulder.

"Don't flatter yourself," Laxus drawled, not at all fazed with her action and took daring step to minimize the already short distance between them. "I was getting rid of the pest that was degrading Fairy Tail… It had nothing to do with helping you."

Lucy huffed. Asshole asshole asshole. "Well if you'll excuse me, I have a game to return to—no thanks to you."

"Just go home," he suddenly said. "You're working later tonight, aren't you?"

"W—how did you know?" she wasn't sure she heard the bastard right. Was the single ounce of kindness buried deep within his soul and squashed between his rotten twin kidneys finally showing?

"You were a pathetic cheerleader anyway," Laxus berated, ignoring her baffled inquiry. His trademark smirk lifted across his face. "Last time I checked, birds don't hop like frogs."

"You are," her eyes ticking with vex, "aweful."

"Oh?"

Lucy had expected the president to say some snide retaliation back, but he only stared at her. After a few moments of silence, she pushed him away from her. His calculating cobalt eyes made her insides unravel with anxiety.

Laxus smirked as she stomped her way into the locker area.

. . .

What was that all about? Lucy asked herself, lips turning down to an unpleasant scowl. Always making me angry and uncomfortable. He's despicable!

But, there was no reason for her to be caught up with the bastard's antics, Lucy told herself as she stripped off the costume and set it aside. She glanced at the vacant shower stalls. Her hair was kind of sticky with sweat, and being trapped in the suit for so long made her skin feel gross.

A shower wouldn't hurt, right?

Each shower had everything from name brand shampoo to soft, fluffy bath towels. The stall was half the size of her bathroom! It didn't take more than twenty minutes before she was squeaky clean again. Lucy wrung the water out of her hair as she hummed a made-up tone and grabbed the white body towel to wrap around herself.

Lucy opened the stall, and gasped at the sight of Laxus sitting leisurely on a chair in the middle of the room, browsing through his phone before looking up and smirked. Lucy slammed the stall door shut, heart pounding against her ribcage. "Why are you in here, Dreyar," she growled.

"Why not? I like the view in here." She could practically hear the impish smirk in his voice as he spoke.

"You're a disgusting, perverted pig."

Laxus knew he was no saint and he could care less. She was good at hiding the distress in her voice by speaking so calmly, but he was Laxus, and he could sense fear from anything. He could practically smell it. It was just so fun ruffling her feathers. "And you're alone in a room with a…ah, disgusting, perverted pig," he purred. "What will you do, Heartfilla?"

When he got no reply, he moved on to the pile of clothes folded neatly by the stall. Laxus picked up a piece of garment with mild interest. "You have quite an interesting taste in undergarments. Little strawberries…how cute."

"G-give me back my clothes, you pervert!" Lucy stuttered behind the stall.

"Then come and get it," Laxus taunted. He could hear her curse under her breath and imagined a pretty pink blush washing over her slightly puffy cheeks while she was only covered with a skimpy towel. It was quite…delicious.

The stall door suddenly flew open.

Laxus couldn't contain the surprise that flashed across his face as he stared at Lucy, surrounded with hot steam as water from her hair dripped, rolling down her elongated neck. Her angry glare and flush made the whole picture even more sensual.

His blue eyes scanned her up and down when she spoke up. "You wanted me to come out, so, happy now?" she said, crossing her arms across her voluminous chest. He appreciated the way her breasts squeezed out further from the towel. "Give it back."

"Humor me," a devious grin formed across Laxus' lips as he tossed her clothing over his shoulders.

"Don't you have better things to do? Like flirting with your three girlfriends?" Lucy said, annoyed, trying to move past him.

"Why, are you jealous?" He blocked her path, slowly advancing her backwards.

"Yes, because I have nothing better to do."

"Well, we can always find something to do." She realized too late as her back hit the stone cold wall. A chill ran down her body with the contact and she locked her eyes with his blue ones. He had her cornered. "I have many things in mind," Laxus breathed on her neck, "up against the wall or lockers… Take your pick."

Lucy buckled her knee against him trying to break free, but Laxus was stronger and locked it by sliding his knee between her legs. "Nice try, princess. Next time when you want to fend off someone, try staying behind the locked doors," he grinned, stepping back.

This was the second time within the hour that he did something like this! Every time Lucy was sure he would do or say something vile, he stops halfway and walks away.

"What are you playing at!" she asked angrily, having enough of his games. Her hands hung in fists by her sides; she didn't get him, at all.

The president shrugged, "You're entertaining," and picked up his blazer that was left lying across the chair and waved a hand over his shoulder. "Put some clothes on, princess," he drawled lazily as he exited the locker room.

Lucy couldn't help the blush that spread across her cheeks.

. . .

Laxus was surprised to find his father home. Ivan Dreyar, though a successful businessman, was not a successful father. He was rarely there for his only son, and only showed up when he needed something. There was thus a barrier between them; their relationship was shaky at best.

The same could be said for Makarov and Ivan, though it was the latter that refused to have anything to do with the older man. The Dreyars all seem to avoid one another if they find themselves to be in the same room.

Laxus walked into the giant office Ivan owned in the far corner of the mansion, where it was dark and quiet. The man claimed he preferred to be left alone in silence, but the whole house was like a morgue anyway. Dead and soundless.

"Have a seat." Ivan's voice was firm and demanding. Once Laxus sat down, the man slid a photo across the cherrywood desk.

Laxus raised a brow at the glossy photograph of a pale, silver haired girl with alluring indigo orbs. She was wearing a light blue dress with white, feather like ruffles lining around the chest and back, but the most notable thing about her was the two white angel wing tattoos on her collarbone.

She was exotic, but Laxus found himself uninterested in this prepossessing female. The image of a pissed off blond flashed across his mind instead, causing him to chuckle inwardly.

"Her name is Angel Aguria. She's flying over from London tomorrow," Ivan said, and it dawned to Laxus about his father's intentions even before the man opened his mouth to finish the rest of the sentence. "Be nice to her boy; she will be your new fiancée."