Chapter Three

Con Dolore

"So here's where you've been hiding."

Gray turned his head just enough so he could see the man behind him. "Didn't realize Lamia Scale had gotten ballsy enough to tango with Phantom Lord—pretty sure they're the ones who run the drugs around here."

Lyon Vastia, his hair still that same shock of white, with that almost rodential look of hunger in his watery eyes that Gray hadn't realized had always been there until it was too late, and wearing that black leather jacket of his, with a white shirt and a pair of jeans, pushed the barrel of his gun into Gray's back again. "Shut the hell up. And don't you give me that look either. This isn't Lamia Scale business, this is personal." He spat. "So this is where you've been hiding, you fuck."

"I've just been tryin' to move on with my life," said Gray, but he turned his face away. "I was hoping you'd learn to do the same, 'stead a fallin' in with drug pushers."

"That's rich coming from you," Lyon growled. "Wouldna had to if it wasn't for you."

"Hey, I was in the same boat as you…but I made a livin' doin' what I was trained to do."

"Yeah? And now what're ya doin'? Rotting away in some bar fixin' people's cars? Bet that's exciting."

"You been workin' out? You look more built than I remember."

"I think you've forgotten who was the one who always beat you at hand-to-hand."

"Actually, I think you've forgotten."

"You know, we didn't have to scrape your sorry ass off the pavement when we found you half-dead, but Ur insisted. Then again, she was always a little too soft."

Gray grit his teeth, losing his play-nice smile. "Watch it, you wise-ass."

"I'm not the one who's got a gun to his back," Lyon pointed out, and Gray could sense him with his finger on the trigger, itching to squeeze.

Just keep him talking, Gray told himself, while his adrenaline ran high, trying to ready him for the right moment to disarm Lyon and then pull his own gun on the bastard.

"How'd you find me?" he asked, knowing that the key was to give Lyon's ego a little stroke.

"Easy."

There was a pause and then a photograph was tossed over from behind him, where it landed on the asphalt, the photo of himself staring back up at him from the ground, hanging out in front of Fairy Tail with Natsu and Lucy and a pack of cigarettes. Gray imagined Lyon yanking this thing out of his jacket pocket and flinging at him.

"Recognize that?" Lyon asked, a triumphant smirk in his voice.

Gray did. The picture was one taken of him by one of the many girls he'd slept with. He couldn't think of her name though, which prompted a moment of self-loathing.

"Young thing named Angel gave me that," Lyon told him.

Angel! That was her name.

"And—incidentally," Lyon added, "she said she liked my dick better than yours."

"Well, I dunno about that," said Gray, all casual, very slowly preparing to use his hand to grab Lyon's gun, twist around, and disarm him—any minute now. Just the same, the muscles in his stomach had all tensed up, his heartrate was picking up rapidly, and his breath was just a little shallower than before.

This wouldn't be the first time Death was staring him in the face—or staring him in the back in this case, he supposed—but it was never a feeling he enjoyed. Though there was something to be said of the feeling after, when the adrenaline wore off and he laughed off the shakes from having nearly died but coming out alive in the end. He had the bullet wounds and other scars left to prove it.

It was a dangerous play, but he knew that if he calculated the timing right, he'd come out of this alive in the end too. Barely. Maybe.

He just hoped everyone inside Fairy Tail would stay inside there. He had no doubt that Lyon would shoot anyone who came across them on sight.

"So, you gonna kill me or what?" he groused.

"Oh, you'd like that wouldn't you?" said Lyon, sounding a little too excited. "Just have it all end in a flash and a bang and then…you're free. Except for your soul burning in Hell, you sonofabitch."

"I ain't dyin'," Gray told him flatly. "Not for you anyway."

Just a few more seconds—

Then Lyon lifted the gun higher and aimed it at the back of Gray's head instead, pressing it into his wild dark hair.

Shit, Gray suddenly thought, thinking he'd let his chance already slip away when he didn't realize he was about to lose it.

Even like this, there was something in his will that was determined not to let him give in. He wasn't going down, not like this.

He couldn't.

But then…maybe…maybe he deserved it.

After all, whatever Lyon was, he wasn't wrong in saying that Gray deserved to be put to death.

"Fuck," Gray breathed, closing his eyes.

Then there was another click of the hammer of another gun, and then Natsu's voice: "Put the gun down, you rat-bastard. If you pull that trigger, I swear to God I will fucking kill you."

There was a deathly pause, and Gray's heartrate slowed, just a hair.

"Well Gray, looks like your boyfriend's here to save your ass," Lyon sneered.

"I ain't messin' around!" Natsu roared. "Get away the fuck away from him!"

Even while Gray appreciated Natsu coming to give him some backup when he hadn't even dared to hope or desire for it, he knew he was never gonna live this down. But he'd take Natsu's ribbing that he saved his life a thousand times over getting shot dead by Lyon.

Just the same, his friend had given him back the chance he'd thought he'd lost. While Lyon was shouting something back at Natsu, Gray spun around and whipped out his Desert Eagle, aiming at Lyon's smug little face, right between the eyes.

"You heard the man." Gray's smile was sardonic. "Beat it."

Lyon glanced between the two of them, reevaluating his situation. Then he lowered his gun, ducked down, and hopped up onto a dumpster, and then up to a fire escape on the adjacent building, where he swung up to the roof and disappeared into the darkness. Another thing their foster moter, Ur Milkovich, had taught both him and Gray.

Gray and Natsu both let out a breath before holstering their weapons.

"He'll be back," said Gray, without a doubt in his mind, already contemplating getting out of town for a while. At least until he could lead that bastard away from the people he'd come to care about.

"You wanna tell me what that shit was all about?" Natsu demanded.

Gray looked up at him and smiled, but it was a sad smile. "Old friend. Foster brother, actually. But as far as he's concerned, we're just enemies."

Natsu, starting to puff up in anger, deflated as he softened up a bit. "Look, man, I know you were involved in a lotta heavy stuff before you came here—I did my share too, if you haven't forgotten, though being a bounty hunter is a little more noble than most things—but it would've been nice if you'd filled in the gaps in the details a little better."

"I was tryin' to keep you and everyone else out of it," Gray argued, and then he heaved a sigh and sank down on a nearby crate, pushing back his dark hair with one hand and then massaging his neck like he did when he started to get uncomfortable. "I don't wanna see anyone I care about get hurt 'cuz a me. Not again." His voice cracked against his will on the word, "again".

"Dude, that's real saintly of you an' all, but it was stupid," Natsu chastised him, actually sounding like an adult for once. "Man, you could've been killed just now." And his eyes got oddly bright and he turned away, breathing out again, hands on his hips. "You're one of us, and we take care of our own. If we'd known about this guy, you know we'd have your back, right? Or did you forget?"

Gray glanced up at him and then down at the ground. "No. I didn't forget. I just…didn't wanna have this turn into a bloodbath. I'd've died happy if he'd just shot me dead now and left the rest of you alone."

"Yeah, well, A: you don't know that, and B: don't you ever say anything that sounds like you'd be 'happy to die' ever again. You got that?"

"Sure. Fine."

"And don't even think about skippin' town to draw him away either, 'cuz we'd all just come after you anyway."

"Yeah, all right, I got it."

"I mean it, Gray!" Natsu whipped around and shook a finger at him. "I will beat you blind if that's what it takes, but I will not let you get killed. Any more than you would me."

Gray stared up at his friend and then smiled again, this time sincerely. "All right. You have my word." He hesitated and then asked, "How the hell did you know to come out here and save my ass anyhow? And thank you, by the way."

"Oh God, I think Hell's freezing over if you're thanking me." But Natsu grinned. "I dunno, I just…had a feeling. You were gone too long, even for a guy who needed a smoke alone."

"Fair enough," Gray conceded.

"All right…now no more of this…'I don't deserve to live' shit, got it?"

"Got it."

"Good." Natsu held out his fist. "Deal?"

"Deal." Gray touched his knuckles to Natsu's, and then Natsu pulled him to his feet and brought him back into the bar where the others were waiting.

Juvia was uncharacteristically nervous. This wasn't the first time she'd put on the guise of a single girl trying to make it on her own and going in for an interview to work as a waitress or a hostess…or a jazz singer. Yet when she stepped out of the motel after breakfast the next morning, dressed in a sensible blue and white, frilly polka-dotted dress with red heels and lips to match, handbag with her loaded Sapphire in hand, she had a rare case of butterflies in the stomach.

She glanced at Gray's text again, where he'd given her the address, and given her a good time to stop by the bar earlier in the day and informally audition for the gig.

Anytime between 9 and noon, she'll be around. Tell her Gray sent ya.

The corner of Juvia's mouth curved upward. She felt the flutters inside her again though as the Uber driver she'd called for arrived so she could take it to Fairy Tail.

The driver that stepped out to greet her though was a magenta-haired young woman sporting pigtails and wearing a dress patterned in hearts, a pattern which threatened to put Juvia into daydreams of romances she could never have.

The woman held out her hand with a smile bright as plastic. "Hi, I'm Sherry Blendy. Where're we goin' today?"

"Ah…."

Juvia gave the woman the address for Fairy Tail, and Sherry started chattering away about what a "hoot" Fairy Tail was.

"Do you hang around there much?" Juvia asked.

"Nah, not me, I'm not really a drinker and well, I've got a boyfriend already and he's not one for bars—more of a clubber, you know—so…no reason to go." Sherry shrugged as she drove them onto the road, Juvia sitting cross-legged in the back. "But I've heard people round Magnolia talk about it."

"Magnolia?"

"Yeah. That's where we are. Magnolia, just outside Crocus City. Well, the armpit o' Crocus. Armpit o' Fiore County, actually."

Then Sherry laughed, but it was kind of obnoxious, if Juvia was being honest.

Guess I should've already known that, said Juvia, though she forgave herself considering she had planned on making it further into the city, where they were headed now.

Fairy Tail Bar was nestled in the industrial section of the bar scene. It seemed that the closer a building was to an industrial outlier like Magnolia, the more industrial it was in clientele. Which made sense, obviously. Towards the more glittering city center were the ritzier establishments where Juvia normally went, or rather, where Porla took her when he wanted to go out on the town and needed a girl on his arm.

When Sherry dropped her off out in front of Fairy Tail, Juvia paid her the fare and then watched her drive off before she pulled open the rather nice polished wood door and went inside.

And inside, it was much nicer than out, which Juvia reflexively found to be a relief. More than that, she appreciated the authenticity of it. It wasn't some sleek metropolitan place like where she usually went with Porla and the others, it was much more…pubby.

She went over and ran her hand over the beautiful wood of the bar, and then found herself charmed by the glitter of the midmorning sunlight on the rows of bottles of liquor behind the bar, vaguely reminded of stained glass in a church, though that kind of beauty brought on its own more sorrowful recollections.

"Hi!"

Juvia looked up, surprisingly startled, as a beaming woman with beautiful white hair—the top of which she had tied up so that she had a sort of cute little pom on her head—drifted over to her from the back of the bar, weaving in and out of the tables, the chairs stacked on top of them. She had a lovely pink and purple sleeveless dress on with a low neckline, but she wore it well, and her fuchsia heels clacked on the hardwood floor.

The air of authority with which she carried herself told Juvia this was probably Mirajane Strauss.

She held out her hand. "Hi, I'm Juvia Lockser. Um…a little birdie told me you might be willing to look at fitting in a jazz singer on your bill."

Mirajane stopped in front of her and put her hands on her hips. "A little birdie, eh?" She raised a graceful white eyebrow.

"Yeah um…Gray Fullbuster."

"Oh?"

Juvia found herself genuinely curious at the way Mirajane now raised both eyebrows.

Then Mirajane considered her, tapping the side of her face with one fine polished index finger, the corner of her mouth tugged upward. "Alrightee then, I'm game. Why don't you sing me a couple tunes and we'll see what you've got." At last she accepted Juvia's hand. "Mirajane Strauss. Please to meet you."

"Likewise," Juvia said sincerely, though she did have to remind herself that this was the woman Porla said had a Winchester under the bar and knew how and when to use it.

"GRAY FULLBUSTER!"

Without thinking, Gray lifted his head up at the sound of a certain voice shouting his name to the rafters in the little car shop. Unfortunately, he'd somehow totally forgotten that he was underneath a car and banged his head on the transmission of the Chevy Aveo he was working on.

"OUCH! Fuck…."

He rolled out from underneath the car on the skateboard he was lying on and sat up, massaging his forehead.

"Hey dummy, hit your head on the transmission?" Natsu jibed, just stepping out of the office after taking a phone call.

"Shut up," Gray groused. "Thought I heard Erza callin' my name."

"She was."

And Gray and Natsu both looked round and saw the woman herself in a pressed suit, this one navy blue, red hair back up in a bun, and gun and badge strapped to her hip as she rocked a pair of aviators.

She lowered the shades down the bridge of her nose and eyed Gray still sat on the floor on the skateboard. "So how come you held out on us last night?" she asked, in that way of hers that meant that she'd learned something about him that Gray would rather she hadn't.

Wary, Gray pulled himself up and dusted off his jeans. "What do you mean?"

But then Natsu's eyes widened and he tried signaling to Erza that whatever she thought she knew, she didn't.

Erza wasn't playing fair though, though she hardly ever did.

She smirked.

"Mira told me about a certain bluenette customer who came in here yesterday with a broken down Lamborghini?"

Gray let out a sigh. "Yeah, but…why is that something I should've brought up?"

Erza took off her aviators with one hand. "Because that bluenette showed up this morning saying you were referring her as a jazz singer for Fairy Tail. And well, you know Mira, she just had to know how it was the two of you met between then and the last time she'd seen you."

"She's just a customer," Gray said, leaning his shins back against the front of the Aveo, folding his arms across his chest. "And someone on the road who said she could sing. So I thought I'd mention it. Seemed like she might be lookin' for work or something like that. I was bein' polite."

"I see. And…how about when you gave her a lift?"

"It was just 'cuz we gotta keep her car in the shop another day or two to fix her engine. Again, I was bein' polite and savin' her the trouble of callin' an Uber." (Behind him, Natsu sniggered—he'd always found the word, "Uber" too hilarious to take seriously.)

Erza lowered her eyelashes as she sucked on the end of her aviators. "Uh-huh. Well, according to what Mira's told me, she's very pretty." Then she added, "And she put this girl on the bill. Juvia Lockser, the jazz chanteuse. I like it."

Natsu blinked, going slightly cross-eyed for a moment. "The jazz shon-what now?"

"Use your dictionary app, Natsu." Then Erza turned to Gray, but Gray forestalled her, holding up a hand.

"I know what you're gonna say, and me and Natsu already talked about this," he said sternly.

Erza hesitated as she took in his words, and then her expression softened, which made Gray look slightly away again. Sometimes she knew him too well. "All right well, Mira wasn't just basing her judgement on looks alone. Girl can sing, so Mira says. She starts tonight, actually."

"Oh, well…great." Gray tried to sound casual about it, shrugging. But he was also massaging the back of his neck again.

"Well I for one look forward to it," Erza went on, switching tact. "We could use a little culture, not that I don't love Lisanna and Elfman's jokes…or Mira's pop covers. So…where's this Lamborghini? Mind if I take a peek?"

Natsu glanced at Gray but Gray wouldn't look at either of them.

"Yeah, sure, it's on deck in the rear garage."

"Cool."

Erza slid her aviators back on, which Gray took note of as he watched her walk with a little more business-like clip in her step, like she did when she switched gears and went into police chief/investigative mode.

Natsu noticed it too. "You think she's working a case here?"

Gray shrugged. "What case'd that be?" Now that the idea was brought up though, he considered it, thought back to what he'd been wondering about whether Juvia was on the run from a guy or something. And he felt that twinge of concern in his chest again.

Natsu scratched the back of his head and then said, "Maybe it's somethin' to do with the Phantom Lord?"

Gray bristled. "Better not be," and he hunkered back down on the skateboard.

"I agree, the less we have to do with them the better." But Natsu wasn't done with him. "Anyway, you plannin' on at least telling Erza about your buddy?"

"He's not my buddy." Gray glared up at him, but then he relented and added, "Of course I'll tell Erza. Just to make sure everyone at Fairy Tail's safe."

Just when he ducked back under the car though, Natsu knelt down and grabbed a hold of the end of the skateboard, yanking Gray back out.

"Hey!"

"Be straight with me: would you've ever said anything about this—what was his name?"

"Lyon Vastia."

"Yeah, him. Would you've ever said anything about this guy if he'd never turned up around here?"

"Does it matter?" Gray tried to slide back under the car. "Leave it alone."

"Gray—"

"I said leave it."

The shaken silence told Gray though that Natsu was legit stunned at his attitude about this. But he didn't press the issue either, and after a minute, he stood up with a sigh of, "Okay," and went back to working on the truck behind the Aveo. Gray huffed and worked off the rest of his frustration wrestling with the transmission until he'd fixed it.

He'd always had this inkling fear in the back of his mind that Lyon would find him one day. But Lyon's role in the life he once lived reminded him of too many painful things, and Gray wasn't the sharing sort, especially when it came to personal stuff.

When he slid back out from underneath the car, he found Erza looking down at him again, aviators pushed back up on her head, arms folded underneath her breasts.

"It's a very nice car. Woman's got expensive taste."

"That and a sugar daddy. Maybe."

Erza laughed. "She doesn't seem like the gold-digger type, actually, which might seem odd given what she's driving. But if she's a traveling musician, as you suspect, perhaps it's the product of sweet revenge from a breakup with a boyfriend."

Gray stood and brushed his jeans off again, and then grabbed the rag hanging out of his back pocket and cleaned off his greasy hands with it. "Honestly, Erza, I couldn't care less what it's all about."

"Really?" Erza raised an eyebrow at him. Then she shook her head. "You can be so odd, you know that, Fullbuster?"

"Eh?"

"One minute you're all buddy-buddy, and the next you're shirking everyone off like you just wanna be alone. So which is it? Do you wanna be with people or be alone? Or be with people who leave you alone?"

Gray tried to muster up the attitude he'd had with Natsu again, but with Erza it was harder. He gave up and sighed. "I dunno."

"Well, either way, we're all here for ya." Erza gave his shoulder a soft and friendly mock-punch. "You know that right?"

"Yeah, I do." A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Listen though, before you go…I gotta let you know about somethin'. Just…somethin' to keep an eye out for."

Erza folded her arms again, reverting back to police chief mode. "Okay. What is it?"

Gray outlined for her, in as little detail as possible, what had happened last night with him and Lyon, and then Natsu happening to come in just in time to save his ass.

When he finished, Erza considered him with a knit to her brow. She glanced once over his shoulder at the sounds of Natsu tinkering with the Ford truck before she glanced back at Gray.

"This is something you want kept on the DL, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well…I know a little something of wanting to keep things close to the chest." Erza let out a breath and slid her aviators back on. "Don't worry, kiddo, I'll keep an eye out without making it something the whole bar knows. White hair, right? Lyon?"

"Vastia."

"Got it. I'll let Mirajane know about it so she can be alert when I'm not around."

"That's a relief. Thanks."

"Sure thing."

Erza made her hand into a pistol shape and pretended to fire at Gray. Gray fired back with a hand-pistol of his own. They both grinned and saluted, and then she turned and headed for the door.

"Allrightee, gotta go pick up Jellal," she announced, loud enough so Natsu heard too.

"Yahoo!" Natsu poked his head out from under the Ford. "You guys gonna be at FT tonight then?"

Erza paused at the door, and the expression that settled across her face was one that Gray sincerely empathized with.

"Nah, think the guy'll just want some peace and quiet his first night back home. But we'll try to make tomorrow night." (Which made Gray all the more relieved that Erza was bringing Mirajane in on this keep-an-eye-out-for-Lyon thing.)

"Well, have fuuuuuuuun!" Natsu called with a sly look and Gray gave him the finger.

"Knock it off, Natsu! God, you have the sensitivity of a dead salmon sometimes."

"Ew. Why a salmon?"

Gray chose to ignore that as he headed into the office to do the write up on the Aveo now that that job was taken care of. After he drove it around to the back lot with the other cars ready to be picked up by their owners, he went back in and took the next folder on the stack.

Lockser, Juvia.

"Okay," he muttered under his breath, like he readying to take a plunge. Then he went to the rear garage and for a moment he just stood there, admiring the gleam of the blue Lamborghini. He knew it needed fixing, but it just seemed too beautiful for human hands to touch.

But his job was to fix the damn thing, not worship it like the statue of a goddess.

So he got to work, unlocked the vehicle with the keys and popped open the hood.

The afternoon lull washed over the shop, Natsu working away on the truck and then another car, Gray on the Lamborghini, music blasting from the radio in the office like always.

Yet all that faded away as Gray worked on the car. Not that that didn't usually happen given his level of focus when he worked, but this time a pleasant energy overtook him. He felt this inexplicable happiness that had nothing to do with the innocent contentment that earning an honest living fixing cars gave him. It was more than that. It bubbled inside him, like colorful soap in water, floated like a cloud.

He whistled while he worked, which wasn't something he normally did.

If Natsu noticed, he didn't say anything.

At some point the station on the radio was even changed to a smooth jazz station, but Gray's working mind flowed along with it like water, subconsciously digging the saxophone riffs.

And he enjoyed working on Juvia's car. There was a pleasure to it that he hadn't expected. And he managed to make good headway on it too, though he'd have to let her know they'd need one more day to get it road-ready. He had a feeling though that given the way things were and the fact that she had a job with Fairy Tail now, she wouldn't be all that disappointed that her car was still in the shop.

After they closed up and had their smoke out front, he told Natsu to go on ahead to Fairy Tail, he needed to pick something up from his place. So Gray took his truck while Natsu darted over to his house across the street and hopped into his flame-orange GT Mustang.

But then at the duplex where he lived, he came across something he hadn't expected to, something that both annoyed and pleased him at the same time, if that were possible.

Seeing as how Juvia had managed to get the singing gig, her next step was to make it seem like she was prospectively seeking a residence more permanent than the motel in Magnolia. Of course, given that she had to be prepared to make a quick get away once her job was done, she did what she usually did in this situation. She gave Porla a call, and after half an hour, he called back with an address.

The place he'd arranged for her was the empty half of a duplex. The building was owned by a woman named Kaguya, who apparently owed Porla a favor.

It was a mark of how, in some ways, Porla was everywhere here. If you wanted to get away from him, you had to have the means to get very far indeed. Get out of Fiore County, anyway. And Juvia didn't have those means yet, otherwise she'd have been gone by now.

Plus, that was assuming that he wasn't willing to hunt you down beyond the bounds of Phantom Lord territory.

The place itself was sparse, so for now Juvia made do with an air mattress and some sheets and pillows she picked up in town in the afternoon. Then, back at the duplex, she sat on the mattress with a granola bar, wearing a t-shirt with a music note on it and jeans while she put together a song set for her first night at the Fair Tail Bar later that evening.

Oh the mundanity that came into the intrigue of assassination work.

As she worked on this with her laptop, her back against the wall of the otherwise bare sitting room, her eyes flicked now and then to her phone. Wondering if she'd get a call back from the shop, if it'd be Gray or Natsu who'd call her, to let her know her car was fixed.

She couldn't help her heart fluttering at the thought of it being Gray, unable to shake the handsome look of him, thinking again of the way his shirt had hugged his body to clearly suggest the muscles underneath. She felt that same stirring again too, that need that was purely biological, but at the same, still had the potential to drive her crazy.

She bit her lip and heaved a sigh, forcing herself back to her work.

Then at quarter after four, wearing a cute blue and frilly off-the-shoulder dress, she put on her makeup in front of the bathroom mirror, her thoughts listing on Gray again, what he would think if he saw her in this dress. She thought about adding some perfume, but then decided against it. She'd always been at her best when she worked with her natural scent, which one man who had been enamored of her (even if he'd been her target and she'd killed him later) had commented reminded him of sand and sea. It was flattering, to say the least.

If Gray were to tell her something like that though….

Juvia shivered and shook those pleasanter thoughts off as she lifted the fluffed pleats of her dress, reminiscent of seafoam, or perhaps a mermaid's tail, and strapped on her thigh holster. There wasn't a slit here, but the skirt itself was flowing and easily opened up like a flower. With a single yank, she could have the skirt up and be drawing the gun before anyone could blink. The fluff of it too would help to hide the bulge that would otherwise give away the gun's being strapped there.

On her way out, she tucked her Sapphire into her thigh holster and let the skirt drop just as she heard a vehicle door outside slam. The person who lived in the other half of the duplex must have come home or something. She tossed the flash drive with her chosen music on it into her handbag, which she tucked under her arm. After she stepped out on the front stoop and locked the front door behind her, she turned around only to find—

"Gray." The name fell out of her mouth like a snowflake drifting down from the sky, without her even thinking about it.

Gray stopped just before the front stoop, staring back at her, blinking stupidly for a moment before he shook his head. "So…movin' in, are we?"

Though he smiled, there was something…forced about it. Just a little. Like he was trying to hide disappointment or something at seeing her there.

Juvia wilted inwardly against her will. But she managed a smile too. "Well, I figured I stay a while since I've got the job at the bar. Thanks again, by the way."

"Don't mention it."

"Anyway, I honestly had no idea that you lived in the other half of this duplex. I was just able to get this place on such short notice."

"'S fine. Don't gotta apologize or nothin'. Speakin' a which, your car'll take just a little longer to get done. Just another day."

"Oh. Well great. Thank you."

"Not a problem."

But Gray's tone of voice oddly made Juvia feel like she had to apologize again. Which was admittedly a little irksome as well as a bit depressing.

Juvia took a step down, and Gray took a step up, heading for his own front door.

"So, I guess I'll see you at the bar then," Juvia attempted, still acting lighthearted and unruffled.

Gray's mouth crooked up again, but his smile still looked like he'd swallowed something bland. Or bitter even. "Yeah. Sure. See ya." And then he disappeared into his half of the house.

And Juiva meanwhile felt that stir of desire again, agitated by how frosty he was inexplicably acting with her. Which, strangely enough, added fuel to the fire that not even water could drown.

Gray grabbed what he'd swung by his place for: a mother-of-pearl stiletto pocketknife given to him by Ur, and stuck it in his jeans. If Lyon was going to make an appearance tonight, he wanted to have this on hand when he faced him again. He wanted Lyon to see it before he dealt with him, seeing as how Lyon had a knife identical to it.

How fitting.

When he stepped back outside and locked back up, he lit a cigarette and smoked it out on the front stoop, tapping off the ash into the grass below and thinking of Juvia, standing there in that dress, and the way that for a moment he couldn't breathe looking at her, even as his heart had pounded and he'd briefly undressed her with his eyes.

She really was beautiful. Not just beautiful, but lovely. Radiating warmth like the Mediterranean Sea, melting the ice crystalized in his chest at a trickling pace.

"Damn it," he muttered.

There was something drawing him to her, against his better judgment. And it was more than just a natural need—though that was certainly part of it, and it was strong, all things considered—he wanted to know her. She seemed so strange, something underneath her eyes that suggested a personality that was troubled, stumbling, and feverish, but also graceful even so. If she fell…he wanted to be the one…to catch her. She was almost unearthly in some ways.

But there was everything that weighed him down. And worse still, Lyon had found him, and was prowling around.

I can't. I can't get her dragged into my shit.

He crushed the end of his cigarette in his fingers, letting the burning tip scorch his skin before he flicked it to the ground and stamped it out.

Get over it, you bastard, he told himself, as he stomped over to his truck and yanked the front door open.

At Fairy Tail, Natsu met him outside. It was well after six, and Elfman and Lisanna were just getting started with that night's comedy routine.

"Any sign of Lyon?" Gray asked.

"Nope." Natsu finished his cigarette and then ground it against the brick wall of the building before tossing it in the bin.

"Lucky Mirajane's on this too, from what Erza said, I don't wanna cause a panic." Gray peeked inside the bar, catching a glimpse of Elfman and Lisanna onstage, in the middle of a comedic exchange that was followed by a burst of laughter. He also caught Mirajane working behind the bar, and she noticed him and gave a wave, and he waved back.

The loudest laugh in the house meanwhile was that of Makarov, naturally.

"The old man's already drunk I see," Gray observed with a bittersweet chuckle.

"It's good we have this place for him," said Natsu. "He needs something to give retirement a kick. I mean…I guess the guy could go out for softball, but he said himself that he was sick of running around and chasing people down."

"Nah, he belongs here, not on some softball team," Gray affirmed. "He got enough exercise leggin' it after bad guys."

"You ever wonder though," Natsu went on, a little more darkly, "if the guy's got enemies? I mean…he was a damn good chief of police for the seventh precinct. Word has it he even got into it with Phantom Lord a few times. There's no way in hell he wouldn't have an enemy or two out there just waiting to take the guy out for whatever reason. I mean we got Erza on the beat now, but still…."

Gray lifted up one side of the unbuttoned, blue hibiscus shirt he'd put on over his muscle shirt, showing the silver Desert Eagle in its holster. "That's what we're here for, right?"

Natsu considered him and then lifted up the side of his own opened shirt, revealing his dragon-etched Beretta. He gave Gray a wicked grin, and Gray grinned wickedly back. "Right."

And then the two of them bumped fists like the night before, and then the two of them had another cigarette, keeping an eye out for a little longer to see if Lyon would bare his fangs that night before heading inside.

Inside, the bar was warm with it being so full of bodies, as usual. Gray pushed his way to the bar with Natsu and ordered a pint of the beer on tap, which Lisanna gave him as Mirajane was now taking her place on the stage.

"Thanks, Lis," Gray told her with a wink, and Lisanna beamed.

"Any time, Gray."

He had a scotch and a whiskey mixer after that, followed by a few shots of vodka, while Mirajane sang through her set of Nora Jones, Lana Del Rey, and even a little Florence and the Machine, which was a testament to how much they could do with just having Max on piano accompaniment.

Then, after she finished, she very happily announced the very brand new act of jazz singer Juvia Lockser, and Gray raised his ears and eyebrows at seeing Juvia emerge from the crowd on the other side of the room, where she'd been having drinks with Evergreen, Freed, and Bickslow. And Gray felt something in him relax, as it turned out all this time he'd been a little nervous for her—now it seemed though that she was already starting to fit in with some of the regulars at Fairy Tail. Even so, when she stepped up on the little stage and introduced herself, he could see how flustered she was, but not out of any kind of stage fright, but more just out of someone who was aware she was the newbie in what was very much a large, extended family.

Either way, it was rather adorable.

And then she launched into her set, and she started off strong with a rendition of "Fever". She had the whole bar snapping their fingers and tapping their feet, like the place had been turned into a beatnik joint. Gray included. Well, he wasn't snapping his fingers, but was tapping his foot. And okay, he tapped one index finger on the wood of the bar to the beat.

Juvia, along with having a rich and beautiful voice that was just the right amount of husky for a jazz singer, also had good energy. She went from "Fever" to "Papermoon", to "La Vie En Rose" to "Ain't Misbehavin'", and from there it went on until she slowed things down again with "Good Morning Heartache".

And Gray's heart stopped just hearing the first plaintively trilling notes.

Immediately his mind flooded with memories.

In the middle of the night he woke up, and found Ur downstairs, busy at her worktable, cleaning her guns.

Another afternoon while they were coming home from training in hand-in-hand, she noticed that both he and Lyon were shivering, and she gladly wrapped a scarf around the both of them to give them a little extra warmth. She couldn't have her boys cold, after all.

Gray woke up again in the middle of the night, and this time, instead of finding her cleaning her gun, he found Ur bent over her worktable, crying softly into her hands, shoulders shaking. Beside her was a tiny stuffed bear the size of a squirrel that she must've found by accident while looking for something else. He trembled at seeing her so broken, and for a moment he thought about going over to try and comfort her, but then she realized he was there and looked up, hastily wiping at her eyes and acting like nothing was wrong. So he played along for her sake.

It was Christmas morning, and while Ur sipped coffee, she watched with a serious yet soft smile as Gray and Lyon both opened gifts of very fine mother-of-pearl stiletto pocketknives for her little bounty-hunters-in-training.

On the shooting range she'd had set up outside her cabin, she reached from behind Gray and steadied his hand, and then tilted it up, just slightly, and then told him to pull the trigger on his father's silver Desert Eagle in his hand. She beamed and praised him when he hit a perfect bull's eye. Then she did the same with Lyon as Gray reloaded his clip, and he felt something warm at seeing the two of them. Foster mother, and foster brother.

Gray punched the wall, demanding why Ur wouldn't take him with her, while Lyon, wide-eyed, looked on, a little afraid of his foster brother's volatile temper. But Ur refused, giving him a serious, immovable stare, which made Gray scream again and then kick the wall instead. He yelled that the Delioras killed his mother and father, and he needed to avenge them. Even so, Ur would not budge, and told him and Lyon to stay put.

In the trunk of Ur's car, Gray waited, having stowed away there instead of staying at home with Lyon like she'd asked him. Only for one of the Deliora guys to pop open the trunk and find him there. They dragged him out, and he saw Ur stare at him in horror at what he had done, at how he'd gotten himself caught when she'd told him to stay home. He tried to tell her he was sorry with his eyes, but it was no use. Desperate, he reached for his father's Desert Eagle he had hidden on him, and even managed to get in a shot, but they disarmed him quick enough. If it hadn't been for Ur, they'd have snapped that gun in half, and his heart would've shattered for it.

And because it was him, Ur broke cover completely to save his ass. They had almost made it out of the Delioras' northern compound. They had reached the fence. But the Delioras were closing in fast. There wasn't time to climb over. So Ur hooked the back of Gray's collar and hoisted him into the air, tossing him all the way over the fence. Gray hit the ground hard on the other side of the fence, but Ur was trapped in the compound, and one of the Delioras' gunmen had her pinned. He staggered to his little feet and raised his dad's Desert Eagle again, hands shaking on the trigger for the first time in his life, but when he squeezed, nothing fired. He was empty: they'd managed to take the rest of the bullets out of the clip before Ur had gotten it back for him. He fell to his knees. He screamed Ur's name as he clutched his dad's cross around his neck in his other hand, praying like he hadn't done since the day he'd had to watch his parents get gunned down. Ur smiled at him over her shoulder, and told him to run, that everything would be all right, right before they shot her dead, just like his parents.

Cold drops rolled down Gray's cheeks, and with a silent gasp he realized that he had started to cry. His throat had closed up. He clapped a hand over his mouth, but his tear-filled eyes were fixed on beautiful Juvia, singing a song that echoed his heartache, a song that Ur used to listen to a lot whenever she was sad.

How did she know?

Of course, she couldn't, but his mind was deteriorating into irrationality with so many sad things pouring into his heart, things he'd kept sealed in ice for so long.

Unable to bear it, he awkwardly slid off of his stool and made a beeline for the men's room, weaving in and out of the crowd of people on the way there. He thought he heard Natsu call after him, but he couldn't be sure. He even ran into one person, that dark-haired girl with the white ribbon tied into it he actually remembered had given him a flirtatious glance the night before.

"Sorry," he muttered as he pushed past her, right as she opened her mouth to say something. And suffice to say, his insides were too much of a turmoil of grief and anxiety for him to give much thought to her, even one of guilt to basically blowing her off the second time in a row.

He was glad at least to find that he was the only one occupying the men's room when he stumbled into it. Desperate, he lurched over to one of the sinks and turned on the water, running it hot, splashing his face with it. But even as it did, the floodgates opened and he began crying openly like he hadn't in over a decade, shoulders shaking, sobs choked in his chest, his dad's cross around his neck dangling over the drain, swinging like a pendulum.

"Ur," he whispered when he managed to catch his breath, grabbing a hold of that cross in his shaking fist. "What can I do…I can never be sorry enough…it'll never be enough…."

Meanwhile, outside, across the street, Lyon, in his black leather jacket, leaned against the wall in between buildings, in the shadows just beside a streetlamp, flicking a mother-of-pearl stiletto pocketknife identical to Gray's open and closed, waiting.

"He out there?" called a soft voice.

Lyon's ears pricked up and he closed the knife and tucked it in his jacket. Then he held out a hand to the woman in the heart-patterned dress who approached him.

"Nah," he told her. "He was earlier, but that pink-haired bastard was with him, and they were too close to the bar anyway."

"Aw, shame. Well, we'll get him." And Sherry Blendy smiled as she leaned up to meet Lyon's lips in a secret kiss beneath the cover of night.