There's something pounding on the wall next to her head and she groans, turning over and burying her face into the pillow to shut it out. She swears quietly as the motion confirms that the pounding is in fact in her head and cannot be shut out. Yep. Hangover.

She's almost impressed with herself— she hasn't had a hangover this bad in years. It feels like her brain turned into tapioca. She wonders what the fuck she must have drunk to put herself in this state. She moans again, feeling her head pound harder in punishment.

"What happened last night…?" a masculine voice rumbles beside her, and she nearly screams in shock, flipping over to come face to face with a very rumpled Laxus Dreyar. He looks just as hungover as she does, eyes squinted against the light spilling through the curtains, hand raised to massage his temples. When he sees her, his eyes stretch wide. "Cana?"

"I—you—" She tries desperately to remember what they'd done the night before. Quickly assessing her body, she realizes she's only wearing her bikini top and lace panties. Where the hell are my pants? "Did we—?"

"No!" he almost yells, shielding his eyes with one hand and wincing at his volume. "Your clothes are still on. I would've—" and she swears he blushes the tiniest bit. "—If we'd done anything, they'd have been on the floor."

"So confident," she mutters dryly, sitting up and pressing her palms flat to her aching forehead. She believes his claim, no matter how irritatingly framed— she's sore in all the wrong places for them to have done anything the night before.

Even through his confusion, he manages to shoot her a disgustingly cocky smirk. "I figure I've earned that confidence."

"Jerk."

"Please, like you're any better."

"If having standards makes me better…" She snickers at his disgruntled look, then frowns. "If we didn't… you know…"

Laxus snorts. "Fuck?" At her scowl, he grins. "Bang? Bump uglies? Have sex? Fornicate? Do the no pants dance?"

Ugh, men. "Fucking hell, Laxus, you're like a ten-year-old!"

He takes that moment to throw the covers off of him and sit up, running a hand suggestively down a suddenly very exposed, toned, tattooed chest. "Does this look like a ten-year-old to you?"

Cana offers him two middle fingers. "Does this look like I'm in the mood for your bullshit right now?" Her voice rises and they both wince, covering their ears.

He's the first to speak. "So… what happened last night?"

She rests her forehead on her arms. "I remember… shots. Lots of shots. And horrible trap music." Glancing up at him through heavy dark curls, she frowns. "Why would there have been horrible trap music?"

"We must have left the guild, gone into town. Maybe found another bar." He thinks for a moment. "Why would we have done that?"

"I was trying to avoid Gildarts?" she suggests blankly.

"Why am I here, then?" he returns.

"Oh, right." Then: "You were trying to avoid Gildarts?"

"Fuck if I know," he groans, burying his head in his hands. "I can't remember a goddamn thing. Except for the shots."

"So many fucking shots." Her stomach rolls at the memory. "Ugh. No drinking tonight. Only… tomato juice."

He makes a face. "Tomato juice?"

"My baby betrayed me last night. We're going on a break." Cana pushes herself out of bed, scanning the room. She ignores the rush of blood to her head and the answering headache. "Do you see my pants?"

Laxus looks around, slowly standing with a hand on his forehead. "My shirt, too."

They hunt in silence for a minute until: "How the fuck do you lose a shirt?"

He explodes. "Woman, you lost your goddamn pants. Don't you even start."

"This wouldn't have happened if you'd stopped challenging me to shots—"

"—Challenging you to—? Cana, we fucking sat under a table and played strip poker. It's part of the rules," he growls angrily, then inhales in a moment of realization. "Wait. I remember—"

She whips her head up, locking wide violet eyes with his. "Strip poker."

"The guild," he breathes.

She grins. "Let's go."

"Cana, your pants—!"

The brunette ignores Lucy's outburst as she and Laxus slam into the guild, tousled and hungover. Laxus looks surly, scratching the back of his head with one hand as he surveys the guild for his shirt. Cana stalks over to her normal drinking table, slamming a hand down on the surface, startling Macao and Wakaba out of their card game. "Oye, either of you two seen my pants?"

"Your— your pants—?" Macao's eyes promptly dip down below her hips and almost pop out of their sockets. Wakaba tries to restrain a gushing nosebleed, crumpling to the table in a heap.

She scowls, unimpressed. "Pants. Seen them?"

Macao shakes his head and gurgles weakly. Wakaba seconds that with a whimper.

She shakes her head and stalks away from them, not caring that the view of her lace-clad backside brings on a fresh onslaught of blood. "Idiots."

Laxus strides up to her, still extremely shirtless. "Do you remember where we were playing?"

She opens her mouth, but she's cut off as Bickslow swings into the conversation, tongue lolling out of his mouth. "You and Boss were getting rather frisky on the floor under the center tables, if I remember correctly."

Cana raises a dangerous eyebrow. "Frisky?"

Lisanna cuts in delicately, tugging the Seith mage away from the hungover duo. "Ah… by that he means to say… you were engaging in some behavior that members of the guild could call… provocative…"

"You had your tongue in his mouth," Gajeel provides bluntly, walking swiftly by.

Cana chokes. "I did what?"

Levy winces next to the iron mage, timidly entering the conversation. "Um… if it helps, he really seemed to be enjoying it?"

"I believe that," Laxus mutters quietly, seemingly not meaning the others to hear him. When he realizes they did, his eyes widen and his cheekbones flush dark red. "I mean—"

Mirajane appears out of nowhere into the middle of the conversation, eyes sparkling with hearts as she beams beatifically at the card mage and the irritable dragonslayer. "Think of the lovely babies they would make!"

Cana recoils. "What?"

The white-haired barmaid steamrolls over her, hands clasped over her heart. "Blonde-haired, violet-eyed babies and gray-eyed brunette babies and—"

Laxus stares at her, panic playing over his features. Cana looks like she's going to be sick. Mira claps her hands together in joy. "It's going to have to be a spring wedding— it'll be lovely— the trees will be in bloom and we can hold it in the cathedral and we're going to have babies in the guild—!"

"Laxus," Natsu interrupts out of the blue, wandering up with Happy, "what's that on your back?"

The lightning mage frowns. "There's nothing on my back, baka."

"Yes there is," Natsu persists, scowling. "It's a bandage. Did you get into a fight without me after you and Cana left?"

Cana reaches out and grabs the blonde, pulling him around so that his back faces her. A big white bandage spans across his right shoulder, opposite his spiral tattoo. She runs her hand across it. "Did we fight anyone? Do you remember?"

He winces. "No, but that stings."

Levy gasps. "Cana, you have one too!"

"What?" The brunette twists to try and see her back. Oh, fucking hell.

Laxus stops her contortions with a large hand placed between her shoulder blades. "Here. Yours is lower."

He presses his fingers to the small of her back. It sends a jolt of pain through her body. "Ow!" She swats his hand away. "If we got in a fight, it was definitely your fault, Sparky, you sadist."

Laxus opens his mouth to counter her accusation when Gajeel bursts into laughter, surprising them. Cana plants her hands on her hips, addressing the pierced dragonslayer with flashing violet eyes. "What's up with you, metal head?"

"You didn't get into a fight, baka," Gajeel manages to choke out through his chuckles."Those are new tattoo bandages. Looks like you guys got some ink done in a moment of inspiration."

Cana's mouth drops open. "Oh hell no. You're wrong. I'm proving you wrong right now." Please let it be from a fight. She reaches for Laxus' back at the same time he ducks around her and aims for hers. She twists, avoiding his arm, trying to trip him to the floor. He growls and grabs her calves, toppling her to the ground. She struggles. "Get off me, Pikachu!"

"You're so fucking impossible!" he tells her, trying to tug off her bandage from behind her back. It's awkward, to say the least.

"Yeah, yeah, you love it," she snarks back, kicking out at him. He's on top of her as they wrestle, pinning her with his greater weight, and she feels heat prickle over her skin as she presses herself against his muscular chest. He grabs her arms and slams them to the tiles beside her head. She glares at him and tries to buck him off. Stupid dragon. Why does he have to be so much bigger? That's cheating.

"What in the hell is going on here?"

Makarov has arrived on the scene, and from the look on his face it's already just one of those days. The guild master blinks, taking in the view in front of him: his irate grandson pins a fuming Cana to the floor; Mira's having a field day to the side, raving about babies as Freed sends Laxus an apologetic glance; Levy and Lucy shoot each other worried looks as if wondering how to separate the fighting pair; Natsu and Gajeel engage in a fistfight; Bickslow and Lisanna crack up, watching the spectacle with great amusement.

"They're having babies!" the barmaid exclaims in ecstasy.

Makarov blinks. "Um—"

"They're getting it on," Bickslow supplies between giggles.

"Fuck you, Bickslow!" Cana screams from under Laxus.

"They're fighting without me!" Natsu wails, punching Gajeel in the face. "Laxus, fight me!"

"I'm busy, moron!" Laxus snarls, avoiding a kick aimed at his nether region and slamming Cana back to the floor with a powerful flex of his shoulders.

Makarov's mouth hangs open. "What—?"

"They got drunk and got tattoos," Levy offers tiredly. "I think. It's actually been really unclear."

"Cana doesn't have pants on!" Wakaba yells from across the room.

"Fuck you, Wakaba!"

Makarov groans. "I hate my job." Extending his arms with magic, he snatches up Laxus and Cana, pinning them separately to the ground. "Someone figure out what this shit is about. Please."

Bickslow and Lisanna jump forward, each taking a place by Laxus and Cana. They grin maniacally at each other. "On three?"

Laxus hisses curse words at his teammate. "Bickslow, I swear to Mavis—"

"One."

Cana's threatening Lisanna. "Don't touch me, Strauss, or I'll tell Mira all about that incident in the wine closet I walked in on—"

"Two."

Mirajane stops twirling in her delighted circle, fixing her sister with an icy stare. Dark waves roll off of her, turning the entire room shadowy and cold. "Lisanna, what's this wine closet incident?"

Lisanna giggles nervously. "Nothing, Mira! Just focus on the babies!"

"Oh, the babies…" Mira's off again in a rainbow daze. Everyone sighs in relief.

"Three!"

Bickslow and Lisanna simultaneously yank the bandages off of Laxus' and Cana's backs, baring the aftermath of their drunken escapades.

Cana swears viciously, scowling. "Well?"

Bickslow almost chokes, he's laughing so hard, and Lisanna can barely speak as they back away from the incensed mages. The Seith mage waves a hand at the pair, bending over to rest his hands on his knees. "You got— this is the best fucking thing I've ever seen in my life—"

"Bickslow, I will fucking end you!" The card mage rushes over to the nearest mirror, twisting to see her back. Her mouth falls open as she takes in the jagged, golden bolts perfectly outlining the curve of her lower back over her panties.

"Fucking hell," Laxus audibly groans, examining his own back in the mirror. He glares at the perfect arc of cards spread over his shoulder blade. "I'm never drinking again."

"Same," Cana growls, angrily eying the bottles lining the bar. "We're not on a break anymore; we are never getting back together."

Lucy whispers to Levy, "Is it healthy to be that attached to alcohol?"

The Solid Script mage shrugs. "It landed her a new tattoo, so it's hard to say."

"It actually looks good," Lucy murmurs.

Levy raises an eyebrow at the blonde pointedly. "It's Cana."

"Cana could make a trash bag look good," the blonde concedes.

Bickslow, overhearing, grins at Laxus. "Hey Boss, Blondie's hitting on your girl!"

"She's not my girl!"

"I'm not his girl!"

Gajeel snickers. "Denial."

"Eat shit, pencil lead." Cana gives him the middle finger

At this moment, Romeo comes running in. "Cana! We found your pants on top of Kardia Cathedral!"

Laxus chokes. Cana slumps against the wall, closing her eyes and sliding down to rest bonelessly on the floor. "I hate this entire guild."

Laxus drops down to sit next to her. "I feel that."

"You probably put my pants on top of Kardia Cathedral, baka."

"Probably true."

They sit in silence for a moment. Then: "Cana?"

"What, Sparky?"

Laxus' head is bowed so she can't see his eyes, but she swears she sees a flush of red along his cheeks. "The tattoo looks good on you."

She pauses, mouth open, caught between a sarcastic response and a flustered giggle. She settles on an unusually soft smile. "Thanks, Dreyar."

"This is when you tell me mine looks good too, idiot."

She grins. "I'll tell you that when you get my pants down from Kardia Cathedral."

"Damn. So close."

"My mama didn't raise no fool."

After a moment, Laxus raises an arm and she leans in, resting under the curve of his arm against his side. When he speaks again, there's a smile in his voice. "But you do think it looks good on me?"

She ducks her head against his side, laughing softly. "Don't push your luck, Dreyar."

He accepts that with a small smirk. The guild moves on around them, drinking, talking, fighting, ignoring the shirtless lightning dragonslayer and the bare-legged card mage sprawled against the wall. Natsu and Gray start another brawl, quickly broken up by a furious Erza Scarlet. Mira flirts quietly with Freed at the bar. Lucy and Levy pore over a new copy of Lucy's novel as Gajeel chews on a fork. Wakaba and Macao hit on Laki and Kinana. Makarov sits on the bar and drinks a beer, enjoying the brief respite.

"Cana?"

She turns towards him questioningly. "Yeah?"

Laxus grins. "Strip poker tonight?"

She breaks into a wicked smirk. "You're on."