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"Splendid, absolutely ingenious – especially if your goal was to make us all unemployed," Ambrose nodded matter-of-factly. Jellal had to laugh.

"Shouldn't you have retired a century ago, old man?" He dared. A file of documents soared his way, hitting his arm with a sharp slap. He laughed again. So did Ambrose.

"In any case, that extended holiday you have been ogling for a while now seems to have made its entrance," he suspected.

"It can stay right where it is – I'll be needing it in a month only," Jellal said. His colleague grew a big, crescent smile at the reminder. "Do you think they'll let me stay at home for, let's say, four years?" Jellal grinned. It was Ambrose's turn to laugh again.

"With what you've developed in that stuff attic, I'd say they'll gladly lock you up in it for good," he broadened Jellal's grin with his typical hohos. "There is such a thing as parental leave, and in all honesty, I wouldn't be too surprised if they let you prolong it – not to mention you're always accumulating your days off; you should have plenty at your disposal."

"Not enough to raise a child…" Jellal muttered. Ambrose chuckled good-humouredly.

A messenger passed them by on their way down the hall. They gave her the forms to be returned to the archive, and she handed over their mail in return.

"Look at it this way – since Erza has no fixed contract, she cannot file in parental leave, and the Council cannot argue for you to only take half each," Ambrose reasoned. Jellal fleetly glanced over his shoulder, hoping that none of the anthropomorphic amphibians had heard. Not that Erza being pregnant was a secret after she had waltzed into the Council with her big belly, but he did not need himself being anyone's dinner topic. "If all else fails, bring them," Ambrose halted in front of his office. "If the baby won't enchant them, your wife will intimidate them," he laughed. Jellal grumbled something reluctantly agreeing.

Back in his own office, he sank into his chair with a sigh. A sigh of content – his plans for border patrol enforcement had been met with delight, both by the Magic Council as well as the Rune Knights. The latter had come somewhat unexpectantly, but there were many of them who sought new adventures and action. That, and there were rumours of the Queen paying bonuses for successfully accomplished tasks.

Lost in thoughts, pondering whether Hisui would have to approve of his strategies as well, Jellal nearly overlooked the strange envelope among his other mail. Frowning, he inspected it more closely. The handwriting did not look familiar – hard to read and wobbly, making it impossible to tell whose it was. He slid the envelope open with his paperknife.

The letter was written on parchment – so far nothing out of the ordinary – but it was folded in the middle instead of into three sections. A detail he remembered to usually only be used in private, not business. The script inside was the same as before, still not ringing a bell.

Jellal frowned at what turned out to be an invitation. An invitation to a restaurant.

The first thing coming to mind was the mysterious man who had sent bounty hunters after them. A restaurant was an awfully uncharacteristic place for an assault; too public. It was, however, the perfect place for a silent assassination by poison. He would have to skip the meal and drinks, Jellal decided.

The thought of disregarding the letter never crossed his mind. If there was someone after him, there was no way he could ignore it – not with his wife and baby potentially targeted as well.

Telling the Council was just as out of the question. The invitation might have entered their building, but there was no mention of them whatsoever. They would only make a big deal out of it and take precautions that might prove to be getting in the way. No, Jellal would go there alone and finish the affair before it had even fully begun.

Or so he hoped.

His confidence sank a little once he arrived that evening. In the same neatly ironed suit he had worn to work, he entered cautiously. The urge to stretch his fingers according to defensive spells plagued him. He fiddled with his wedding ring instead.

It was a nice restaurant – fancy and busy with lots of costumers. Even more uncommon for an evil plot – unless, that was, if everyone was in on it.

A waiter saw him coming, and there were no words exchanged as he led him to a table for two. A table in the very centre of the big room. Jellal narrowed his eyes at the massive chandelier right above, then unsuspiciously scanned the surrounding tables.

A few people glanced at him. None of them seemed to recognise him or exchange signals, he noted. As usual, it was his face that drew the attention to him. Water and wine were already on the table, but the lack of wine glasses for the person opposite him caught his attention. A person who had yet to show up. Remaining unmoving in his chair, Jellal gave nothing away that might have made him readable.

Glasses clinked, then suddenly shattered. A waiter excused himself, flustered, and a woman said a few unkind words while her partner offered soothing ones. Jellal's eyes darted to the side, and he had to turn his head the slightest bit to observe the scene. He prepared himself for the seat across from him to be taken the moment he turned back, so he avoided looking away completely.

A hand on his shoulder startled him.

"So," he froze at the all too familiar voice in his blind angle, "won't you tell me how your day at the Council went?" She smoothly asked. Her hand stroked along one shoulder to the other as she encircled him, gliding into her seat. Her hands joint below her chin, and lids lowered slightly as she offered a witty smirk. "You handed in those cunning propositions today, didn't you?" She asked. Jellal nearly laughed out loud.

Instead, he settled with a smirk of his own.

"What a coincidence," he played along, propping his chin up on his hand just as casually. "And here I thought I wouldn't have to see your face until the end of the week," he grinned.

"How dare you—"

"I was kidding."

"I know that," Erza puffed. Then she had to chuckle. He joined in, his entire body relaxing with a deep exhale of relief. Reaching across the table, he opened his hand. She took it, eyes shining brightly with content, all mischief forgotten. "I missed you."

"Shouldn't you be out with the girls, testing restaurants?"

"I was – this is the last one on the list," she illuminated. She was glowing, the mention of his 'secret mission' alone bringing a beaming smile to her lips. He gave her hand a squeeze.

Although the idea had been outstanding, it would have never worked without Fairy Tail's help, Jellal had to admit. The girls had gone as far as involving Yajima, persuading him to play along with their plotted scheme of a fake chef who had to be exposed. Meredy had called Jellal that night, telling him how heroically Erza had defended the dessert and bloomed in the baffled customers' applause, never noticing the girls' high-fives in the background.

He would have to come up with something to thank them all later.

"I made notes apart from the evaluation for our client," Erza was saying, apparently still unaware that the client did not exist. "We can visit the restaurants according to the menu, location, or my personal ranking – the sweetness-level," she retold. He could practically see his salary rise fly out the window.

"I have to ask – whose handwriting was that?" Jellal asked. They might have all kept Erza in the dark, but they had tricked him too. "I thought I'd have seen them all by now," he mused aloud. Archiving request rewards unavoidably involved every guild member's signature.

"Lisanna used take over on her hand," Erza explained. "It looked rather difficult to hold a pen with her paw…"

"You don't say," Jellal mumbled. A momentary shudder ran down his spine, as if he still had fur that bristled. Erza giggled.

"So how did it go?" She ran a finger down the back of his hand. It caused a different kind of shiver. Her eyes sparked up. He should have known, Jellal thought to himself. They were in Era after all. How again was she not tired with approaching nine months pregnant…?

"Even better than we'd hoped," he began. A waiter interrupted them, but Jellal gladly continued after they had ordered. It took him until their food arrived to tell her in detail just how impressed the Council had been. Jura had even come by to personally see him off for the day, congratulating between the lines.

"To you," Erza raised her glass, "and that brilliant brain of yours, granting us more time together," she smiled lovingly. He returned it. Lifting his own glass, Jellal did not touch it to hers just yet. That overpriced meal she had ordered had reminded him of something.

"To time at home and," he lowered his voice alongside his head, mysteriously glancing at her from below, "to our house. I paid it off this Monday," he disclosed. Her eyes lit up, rivalling even the enormous chandelier overhead. He met her glass with a light ding. "So from now on, we should go easy on the fancy-ness of restaurants," he raised a meaningful brow. Erza was still over the moon, nodding eagerly anyway.

"We will."

"Although we still need a bed for the baby," he sheepishly recalled. Three and a half weeks away from birth and they had hardly even equipped themselves with clothes, let alone nappies, bottles or toys.

"We'll make one – I've been meaning to tell you," Erza enthusiastically raved. "I'm good with carving wood; I'll cut us the pieces for the crib," she was nearly bursting with excitement. Had there been no food to stuff herself with, he was sure he would have been shaken senseless in her vigour.

"And I'll put it together," Jellal agreed.

He hardly got to say another word throughout dinner, but he did not mind. Erza was blabbing away, swooning about their house, their child and their future. The wonders she wanted to experience together, the things neither of them wanted their baby to miss out on like birthdays and school and a carefree, protected childhood.

Not having ordered a second dessert – or even a first one – Jellal let his chin sink into his palm again. Enamoured, he watched her as she went on and on, and he could not help but look forward to it all. A life with Erza always by his side.

The mansion's door fell shut behind him the following day. He had wondered whether Erza was still there – the lack of attempts to break into the Council's building had made him believe she could have prematurely taken a train back home. The sweet smell of chocolate that fogged the hallways told him otherwise.

The kitchen was empty, but he found evidence sewn all over. The stove had been on, the remains of melted chocolate still in its water bath. Scraped out thoroughly. Then there was the cutting board where he spotted apple cores, banana peels and grape stems. A plate or bowl however, was nowhere to be seen. He followed the scent up the stairs, sneaking up to their preferred bedroom.

"I'm home," he announced once in front of the door. A fraction of a moment passed until she answered – she had to swallow, he guessed.

"Welcome back," Erza called.

"It smells good, almost like the chocolate I wanted to make nut wedges with tonight…" Jellal drawled, gradually opening the door. Hectic rustling came from the other side, and he granted her the time she needed – he had to hide his own amusement anyway.

Fully peering inside, Jellal was greeted with a most innocently beaming grin. The obviously-caught-red-handed kind of grin. There was bulge the size of her belly next to her. Had she actually put their blanket over chocolate?

Before he could say anything, she crumbled under his arched brow. She was too honest after all. Submissively, hardly daring to glance up at him from below, she dug out her in dark chocolate covered fruit.

Jellal put his hands on his hips for dramatic effect.

"On the bed?" He pretended a strict tone. Erza wagged on the spot, tapping her index fingers together. Stomping over until towering her, Jellal loomed over her. He would have threatened with some naughty punishment or other that she would enjoy, but she was too cute to seriously consider that. She glanced up with surprise when he pecked the top of her head. "I hope you've had dinner before this," he mildly chided.

Her hands detached from one another, carefully wrapping around his legs. She docked onto them, hugging herself to him. Then she nodded, a big pout on her face. He had to chuckle.

"That's a good girl," he patted the top of her head. She smiled to herself, rubbing against him to play along. "I'll let you finish that; I still need to prepare something for tomorrow."

"You only just came back from work – how can there be something you still have to do?" Erza tugged on him, hooding him captive. It cost him a dozen kisses and a fake thievery to her snack to get her to let go.

"Ambrose said we have chances of several weeks of holiday – I don't want to destroy that," he said. With a smaller pout, Erza consented.

He could hear her chew even before having closed the door behind him. He would spend the weekend with her in Magnolia, that much was for sure, and perhaps the coming week, but before taking a long timeout, he wanted to be present and successful at work.

Half a week still in Era, perhaps one week at home, and then two more in Era. Not even one month left. It circled through his head relentlessly, making it hard to focus on the case in front of him.

After two hours, Jellal sighed in defeat. The door to the study creaked as if on cue, prompting him to raise his head from where he had been raking a hand through his hair. Erza peeked in.

"It's late," she stated. He had to smile. Throwing one last glare at the sheet on his desk, he finally surrendered. He marked the page, then closed the file.

"You're right—"

"Aren't I always?" Erza raised a playful brow. Jellal let out a small snort, continuing to sort out the stacks of documents to take with him the following day. He knew she did not solely want to go to bed – the night after the restaurant had left him nearly numb the following morning and definitely not in the condition of thinking properly about what to bring to work.

"I'm going to have to ask for advice – or a different source," he said. "The account says that the victim only recognised him when approaching, and I cannot figure out whether it's intentionally vague or if the author has no talent for writing – did the victim approach the man? Did the man approach the victim?" He huffed to himself. Erza's hands appeared out of nowhere. They ran around his ribs to his chest. He had not even noticed her enter fully, but her gesture served its purpose as always, his muscles' tension as if flowing off.

"Why not read something pleasant instead?" She suggested. He gave her a look over his shoulder.

"No."

"Not my books," she laughed. "I brought the fairy tales you had been meaning to read."

"That's right," he smiled. Not that the baby would be able to understand any time soon after birth, but he wanted to be prepared anyway. Have a head start to compensate for all the questions he would not be able to answer.

With a head start to the bedroom, Jellal used the time Erza spent on making them tea to change into something comfortable for the night. Spotting a book on the nightstand, he crawled over to her side of the bed. A fairy tale. He frowned at the title, yet found the illustrations rather charming.

Skimming through, he soon read the story word by word. His brows only creased more, scepsis replacing charm, and bewilderment replacing scepsis. When Erza returned with their tea, he was panting from laughing fits.

Smiling with puzzled amusement, Erza came to sit next to him. He opened his mouth to explain himself, but the only thing coming was more laughter. She let him support himself on her knee, chuckling while he caught himself.

"This is ridiculous," Jellal shook his head. "I thought these were supposed to enchant children."

"They do – they often even teach a lesson at the end," Erza defended. She took the book from him. "Or here, they tell you how the world works."

"But it's not how the world works."

"It's for children," she giggled. "And so, the little tree once again rained down its leaves, and the other trees followed its example. From that day on, the birch was the symbol of winter, and no one ever asked again about its unusual colour," she read. "It tells you why trees lose their leaves in winter."

"They lose their leaves because they cannot nourish them in the cold – also birches aren't white because of winter," he nagged. "It's the betulin in the bark that makes them—"

"It's for children," Erza scolded by more or less gently slapping him with the book. He only laughed again.

"First and last fairy tale you'll ever see me read," he shrugged. "I don't even want to know what unholy things 'The Princess and the Dragon' is going to 'teach'."

"You'll come around – you're going to have to make a fool of yourself anyway with a baby around the house," she poked his side, and he yelped. Challengingly, playfully, they twinkled at one another. A short silence stretched. His mind's gears were turning as much as hers, neither voicing anything until Erza let the fairy tale disappear with slight impatience.

"I'm still thinking of the other book," he said, interrupting himself when she confessed almost the exact same thing at the same time. Both had to laugh. He cut it off by capturing her lips. With a hum and then a moan, Erza keenly responded. He would have never called it 'acting on the contents of her books' – they could be quite peculiar at times. Most of the time.

Still, Jellal had to concede, at least clandestinely to himself, that she had conditioned him rather well to think of one certain activity while at the mansion.

Erza stirred slightly when feeling warm hands caress her torso. One wandered to her hips, down to her thighs, all the while her most favourite pair of lips planted kiss after kiss on her nape. She sighed, leaning her head back and into him.

"I see someone still has energy," she slyly noted. She had not noticed to almost have drifted off – or perhaps she had – a glance at the clock telling her that hardly any time had passed.

"You're irresistible," Jellal huskily breathed into her ear. It made goosebumps rise all over her body. "I keep thinking of five minutes ago and it already doesn't take much more," he kissed her again, fleetly now. He had not meant to say the last thing aloud, she suspected, supressing a giggle. "But you're tired, right?" He slowed his pace. Whether with a hidden motive in mind or not, she did not know, but it made her want him to continue more avidly again.

"Who says tired excludes aroused?" Erza smirked. He briefly paused.

"I don't want to force you when you're tired," he finally said. His voice had a light tightness, and she knew it was because of his extraordinary self-restraint. He should have known by now that it was much appreciated, yet not necessary.

"You could convince me," she tried to lure him out of his ever-polite shell. His face was still flushed, and she could feel the eagerness in his fingertips despite his hands remaining in control. She turned over to fall on her back.

"But I don't want to force you to agree," he emphasised.

"Jellal," Erza deadpanned before he could turn into a puppy dog, "seduce me," she demanded, trying to ban the slight annoyance from her tone. He blinked at her serious expression, then nodded – nodded like the idiot she had tried to keep at bay but loved with all her heart.

"Oh, okay."

"Don't make me phrase it as an order again," she rolled her eyes. They shot open and somewhat fluttered closed at the same time when his mouth was on her neck again. The side of her neck this time – he knew her weak spots too well – but she was not prepared for the ardour with which he attacked.

As if back in his transformed body, Jellal fervently dragged his tongue up her carotid, teeth grazing her silky skin. Erza groaned from the back of her throat, gripping his hair. Yes, she was tired, and by far more than she let on, but she could never get tired of this. Of him.

It took her longer than ever to catch her breath, but it was a price she was willing to pay. Snuggling into him afterwards was on a par with making love, probably better, and she once again dozed off with ease. This time, she awoke from his hand stroking over her belly.

Peeling her eyes open a slot wide, Erza glanced at the alarm on the nightstand. She wanted to give an exasperated sigh. It was the middle of the night, and he had yet to fall asleep for the first time. She was excited to see whether the baby would finally cause him to sleep without problems. Not that she did not want to anyway, but if that was what it took, she would gladly have another right away.

Jellal winced when the baby kicked. Quietly, he shushed it. It made her abdomen cramp with suppressed laughter. He held his breath, so she took his hand above her navel to show him that she was awake.

"What's wrong?" She asked. There was no point in asking whether he could not sleep – it was plainly obvious.

He hesitated. Moments stretched into minutes, no matter the caresses to back of his hand with her thumb. Even the baby gave an encouraging kick.

"What if it… looks like me?" He eventually whispered. Another quelled sigh. She replaced it with a mellow smile, letting it ring in her voice.

"Then I couldn't be happier."

"But—" Jellal bit his tongue. Then he summoned every ounce of bravery to continue, taking a deep inhale. "People will associate terrible things with it," he said. Erza mused for a second. Turning around, she locked her gaze with his.

"What's most striking – the shape of your face or the markings around your eye?" She asked. He frowned slightly.

"The markings."

"See? I don't think anyone could be agitated by your face – except maybe their libido," she pondered.

"Erza," Jellal chided, though with a light chuckle. She returned a broad smile.

"As for your markings," she cupped his face, placing a kiss above and below his right eye, "how many people have we encountered that naturally had them? How do we know it's not just because of your powers, o Man with eleven types of magic?" she supplied. It made him snicker again.

"We don't – that's the issue," Jellal grimaced, but she knew that she had softened him. He wanted to be reassured, and she would gladly do just that.

"Let's see…" Erza pursed her lips in thought. "Zero had his tattoos solely due to magic."

"Zero?"

"From the Nirvana incident," she retold. "When you gave Natsu that golden flame," she went on – forgetting about the man Jellal knew as Brain, who had taught him the Square of Self-Destruction. Or Jellal's revival under Brain's control. No, she was on an appeasement spree.

"Right." Was all Jellal said.

"Who else do we know?" Erza asked. Her hand wandered upwards, playing with his hair to keep it out of his face. "Erigor was definitely using face paint to look cool," she recounted next. It made him laugh, which she returned with a complacent grin. "The same goes to Acnologia," she invented.

"How do you know?" Jellal provoked.

"I'm Erza – I just do," she feistily replied, enticing another chuckle. He knew the markings must have had something to do with magic as well, but he accepted her silly jokes. The fact that he did warmed her heart, so she gave it her all to uphold the good mood. "Laxus' is a tattoo – he didn't always have that. Larcade too. Future Rogue was under the influence of dark magic," she enumerated.

"Who?"

"Orga uses face paint," she shrugged. She was quite proud of the way she was able to recount all of them.

"I'm starting to think you're just making people up," Jellal exhaled with amusement.

"I would if it made you feel better but," she pecked the tip of his nose, "they're all real – or were. Millianna uses face paint," she added.

"I get it," Jellal chuckled. Then he let out a breath through his nose. "Only I don't use face paint, and if my magic will be inherited," he paused, lips frowning with discomfort, "the baby might suffer the same fate, regardless of this possibly being a birth mark," he sadly said.

"Magic can be trained," Erza intervened almost immediately. With everything she had recalled, the chances of his markings being a birthmark seemed almost impossible. "If we don't train whatever magic it is, it won't develop," she argued.

"That… doesn't sound too bad actually," Jellal had to agree. She offered a smile, and he returned it gratefully. Leaning down, he tenderly met her lips as thanks. "After all, there's plenty to choose from – do I really have eleven magic types?" He asked a tad sheepishly.

"Last I checked," Erza grinned, then pecked his lips. "Now sleep," she gently traced her thumbs over his eyes, closing them, "you have a hard rest of the week ahead of you."

"Right," he affirmed, "that case."

"What case?" Erza asked, feigning ignorance. Jellal frowned, but she nipped his question in the bud as she wound her hands around his neck, drawing his ear to her lips. "We're still in Era…"