Starting to get the feeling 200 chapters aren't all that quixotic...

Mikasa-Chan, welcome back, there's no need to apologise! Thank you for taking the time in your busy schedule to let me know what you think! Don't worry, I already have a ton of Jellal and baby interactions in my notes, some written out cause I can't wait either ':D

lovespirita, thanks so much for leaving me a review! It's been a while since I've gotten an angered 'dude, mean cliffhanger' notification xD

foxydame, thank you so much for your super long review! I appreciate it a lot! Can't believe you commented on the bunk bed thing xD Author-San feels valued. Yeah, Erza is forced to learn too, having to shift down a gear. It's a battle of stubbornness vs. being responsible :D I'm in love, too, with how you pick out the details I never think are noticeable, but there's always a sly fox, finding them ;D Thank you so much again, I just have to repeat it, I'm smiling so much reading your review!

Let's resolve that cliffhanger, shall we?

The air was still. The moist walls and floor emitted an icy cold temperature, the contrary of the blood sticking to the soles of her feet. The noise from the soldiers above had long faded, not a hint of human presence anywhere near but right ahead. Light streaked the brick arch, open and inviting would it not have been for the eery silence. A faint scratching was the only thing to be heard.

She equipped a sword. Her steps were more audible now, the faintest of smacking where they tiptoed closer to the ominous room. She had to find Jellal. She had to know that he was safe, that this was not some kind of sick laboratory and that the blood was… She swallowed.

Deciding against storming the room, Erza peeked inside first. Tables stood in rows. Less like school benches, but rather reminding of a sewing factory; of workbenches. Every single one of them was strewn with small mechanic parts, iron fillings covering the ground here and there, tools lying around almost as much as pieces of parchment. Her eyes snapped to the figure in the middle of the room, the dim candlelight vastly drawing up his shadow against the wall.

Jellal was immersed in thoughts. His brows furrowed as he brooded, his hand swift where he scribbled something into a small notebook. He had reopened the cut on his finger, droplets of blood serving as the ink he had apparently not been able to find, running down his digit and to the tip of the quill it held. He was copying something, occasionally bending over what Erza slowly realised were more arrays for spells. All incomplete.

She eased her stance, the sword in her hand sinking. Not without listening to the silence of the corridor once again, she stepped inside the workshop.

"You drew the runes outside," she announced herself. Looking up, darkened eyes unveiled; lit up at the sight of her. His hair was still in its adorable ponytail, some of the pins remaining in his hair where they partly hung, partly kept his bangs out of his eyes.

"I'm sorry if it frightened you," he returned. His writing hastened, continuing despite speaking. "I was hoping to complete it and find out what it did, but whatever I tried did not work," he explained. The iron fillings and not least dust were sticking to the blood beneath her feet as she walked over to him. "I defeated everyone I encountered, but I can't shake the feeling that there's still someone left. Hostages perhaps …" he shared his speculations. "I think I might know how to get there," he added, finally closing his notes with a swift snap. Only now did Erza notice the bundle of collected sketches and parchment rolls next to him. His loot.

"It's down here somewhere, right?" She aided, knowing how the building was too big for this single corridor and hall to complete the lowest storey. Gently, she enclosed his hand in both of hers, suckling at his cut until the blood ceased to well up.

"Remember the stairs going down here?"

"How could I not, I almost soared down," she puffed.

"Exactly," Jellal's eyes were ablaze, engrossed in his task of playing the detective. And what a quick-witted one he was, Erza thought to herself. "When we first entered, I counted our steps up to that cafeteria to measure the distance and estimate the size of the building," he stuffed the notebook into the inside of his coat, rearranging his cape to fall naturally. "I also stumbled on these stairs, and when I counted, they had fourteen steps. Every other regular staircase has thirteen,"

"Why do you even count the steps of stairs wherever you go?" Erza giggled. She took his arm when he awkwardly glanced away. Rising to her toes, she pecked his cheek.

"For the same reason I don't like stepping on gaps between tiles?" He scratched the back of his neck. "In any case, the two uppermost steps used to be one – hence the stumbling; they're too short now," he expounded. "I bet if we break them loose, we'll at least find a clue," Jellal concluded. He gathered up his findings, and she stored them all away with her magic.

Down the long hall, around the corner, they could hear the back and forth running of the soldiers. She still had to inform him how she had called upon Caelum's military using his insufficient authority.

"Alright," Jellal knelt on the third step. "Perhaps," he ran his fingers scrutinisingly over the stone, "if you could place a sword at the edges near the walls," he started, pointing accordingly. He flinched when she instead briskly summoned a gigantic hammer, smashing the first two steps – and consequently a few lower ones as well as parts of the floor above – to bits. The dust settled after a moment, revealing darkness below. "… or you could do that," Jellal nodded to himself.

She allowed him to help her down.

The soldiers' boots now crunched over their heads. The narrow corridor was even darker than the one she had found him in. Jellal lit a flame atop his palm. He halted when the hallway ended. Bending down, he illuminated what looked like a door, not yet reaching her knees in height. She frowned.

"What is this? A palace for ducks?" Jellal wondered under his breath. With no resistance whatsoever, he opened the door.

"Jellal," Erza's heart made a nervous skip when he proceeded to crawl in. "Don't just-"

"It's alright, I can see the end," he announced. It was hard to understand him without crouching to the height of the slim tunnel. His feet disappeared. She called after him, his voice echoing back after a second. "There's another door here. Hand me a sword," he asked. "Wait, Erza-" he chastised when she had already dragged herself through the hole herself.

"It's tiny," she noted when arriving next to him. Neither could stand upright in their newly discovered room. The walls – not bricks anymore but of a shimmering creme-white colour with no joints whatsoever – was so close from all sides that she could touch them if only she stretched her elbows out. There was an almost normally sized wooden door on one side of the cube.

Both winced when metal bars dropped to cover their entrance hole. Not yet on her knees to pull on it, Erza winced away. A sort of dense mass was gushing through the tunnel, filling it up, hardening quickly to form a shiny concrete-like barrier.

"The sword," Jellal reminded. His voice had thinned, sweat pooling on his forehead. Handing one to him, they each rammed a blade between the door and wall. It fell off, revealing nothing but wall. A decoy. A trap.

A derisive laughter reached them via telepathy.

"You did quite the number on us, mages of Fiore," a previously unknown voice cackled. "Too bad you will be meeting your end here – no one to see, no one to hear, and no one to save you from your agony…" they spun around, observing the walls; the strange, adamantine-seeming material. There was not even the most midget hole anywhere. They really were all alone.

Or were they…?

Erza's mind raced when the voice bid them farewell. She watched as Jellal hit the wall with whatever force he could conjure without being able to fully lunge her weapon. Or his fist.

"I can't build up any momentum for my blades," Erza admitted. "And I can't guarantee they won't ricochet."

"I can't exactly blow anything up without risking injury either," Jellal lamented. He sank to the floor. His breath gave a slight shake, and she could feel her own to be coming short again. Or rather still. It raised the unpleasant question of oxygen in such a small prison; for how long the both of them would have enough to survive. With the entrance blocked by whatever concrete matter had been pumped into it, there was a slim chance of a long time slot, not to mention any soldier finding them before it was too late.

She regarded his wrinkled forehead, saw him fidget with his hands in his lap, hit the back of his head against the wall. With his legs not yet stretched completely, he already reached the opposite wall with his feet. It made her think of his overknee boots.

Despite herself, a smirk spread across her lips at that thought.

"Well, if no one can see or hear us," Erza shrugged nonchalantly, "we might as well make use of the time we have left," she lowered herself to sit in front of him. Jellal frowned. His eyes widened, blood shooting up into his cheeks when she emitted a lustful moan. Urgently, panickily, he stared at her. Wordlessly told her to stop, but she only kept going.

Her eyes fell shut, sultry groans scraping up her throat, his name falling from her lips. She tightened her fist around the fabric of her skirt, her breath rasping on purpose where she moaned as if they were going all out in the house in Era. She had to smile when remembering that.

Erza opened one eye a slot wide when Jellal stiffened. So she upshifted, becoming more erratic in her mewls and moans, alert to catch any changes in her husband's focused eyes since she couldn't hear anything besides herself. There it was. The spark. The fire. He had found something.

Within less than a second, Jellal had slung his arm around her. His other had thrust forward, mercilessly ramming the sword in his hand past her and into the wall. Through the wall – through the petite peephole that had opened in the wall. A shriek of pain ripped through the air, tearing at their eardrums.

Twisting the blade, Jellal opened up a broader cavity. Erza turned, striking another of her weapons into the rock behind the odd material. Wails and outraged cries could be heard from the other side. Jellal sent Pleiades through the opening, enticing more howls. Pairing the force of his spell and her swords, they cracked open the majority of the wall which connected to the bordering room. Just enough to jump through.

Another dark, square room, tough bigger by far.

"Hold it right there or I'll shoot!" A man in a long dark cape ordered. His hands were trembling, arms outstretched where he held a gun. Three, no, four metres, Erza estimated. Not a distance she was incapable of dashing across, but the chance that either she or Jellal got shot remained. The trigger might be faster, and usually she would have more faith in her abilities, but… there was someone else to take care of.

Something had to act as a distraction. And she had already played her game, even without the Seduction Armour.

"Stand back, Erza," Jellal grimly said. Her glance flashed from their enemy to him. The other delinquent was a heap of tears and screeches, holding his head where blood trickled from his eye.

"I'm fine-"

"I said stand back," Jellal growled. "I don't want you to fight and get into danger again," he commanded. "Stand back."

"Jellal," Erza huffed.

"I mean it, get behind me and stay out of this," he was close to barking now. Oh, what a brilliant man she had married. Handsome and smart and never out of ideas. She had to fight her smirk where it begged to break out.

"I'm not leaving you to risk your own life,"

"Erza!" He yelled, glaring at her. There it was. The signal. The instantaneous shining of his eyes was enough to confirm her assumption. "Don't get involved-"

"I won't just sit back and watch you get hurt!" She argued back. Her armour glowed, thinning, vaporising where a new one set into place. The stranger's eyes widened, directing his gaze at her. He chocked when Jellal's fist suddenly splintered his lower ribs. The gun fired, then dropped from his slack hands, and he collapsed, passed out. Merely a bullet graze, and not a wince betraying it where Jellal's arm relaxed.

"Well played," Jellal clapped his palms up and down one another as if getting rid of dust on them.

"Well played indeed," Erza carelessly stepped over the man, lifting her chin to hover close to her beloved's face. "Let's play again sometime."

Waves swashed against the bow of the ship. Their force lessened the closer the ocean vessel came to the port. Just a handful of minutes more and we would-

He startled a little when the distance was already crossed. The plank hit the jetty. A cluster of people had already gathered there, shuffling down to finally find solid ground beneath their feet. He squished himself amidst the small crowd. His bulging bag was clutched under one arm, its contents clinking.

"Okay, where to now…" he put a flat hand to his forehead in order to shield the blinding sun from his vision. Caelum was by far warmer than Fiore where winter was only just beginning to make itself scarce.

"She said it would be easy to find, right?" Max sauntered down the plank, hands in his pockets.

"Woah," Elfman joined them, "the magic energy is really something out here," he inhaled deeply, grinning with content.

"It should be close by," Warren retold. Rucking up the heavy bag on his shoulder, he led the way down the pier. He might have agreed to bodyguards with a money-weighty commission such as this one, but he insisted to carry his goods by himself. He was proud of them, eager to present them. At the same time, a nervous sweat was building up.

They entered town via the main street. The hustle and bustle was merry, colourful and above all noisy. The pavement was packed, the streets used by pedestrians more than carriages. Shop windows twinkled with to perfection polished merchandise, children ran about with ice cream cones, and the women's outfits were…airy. Warren loved summer.

A group of three girls – teenagers, he assumed – giggled as they passed them. Their eyes followed him, and he felt his face heat up instantly. A shiver ran up his spine. What had made him think he could do this?

"Maybe it's a better idea to look for a place to stay first," he quickly proposed, an uneasy grin quivering on broad lips. "After all, we don't know if they already expect us; they might not be there today – or at all! Maybe they changed their minds or-"

"Oh, no, I know what you're doing," Max shook his head. He slung an arm around his guildmates' shoulders, keeping him from stopping. "We're going straight to the hotel,"
"Yeah, face it like a man!" Elfman cheered. Warren only sighed in defeat.

A huge gasp interrupted their conversation.

"Oh. My lords," a female voice came from the side. Her eyes were big, sparkling at them. At him. Warren gulped. "Can it be?" She asked as if having waited for him all her life. Perhaps longer, some kind of prophecy coming true after centuries of enduring. "Is it you? The man- the hero she promised us?" The brunette clasped her hands in front of her chest.

"Uh…" Warren ungainly managed. He winced when she squealed. Was 'uh' some sort of code language for 'marry me'? And even if so, him? Was she really this enraptured because of him? His throat went dry again, no matter how often he swallowed. He blamed the heat.

"Come, please," she reached for his hand. Her own was soft, making his blush shoot up his face more prominently. "I made pie and tarts. You can stay for as long as you like; I'll prepare the guest room for your friends – you can share mine," she lowered her lids, effectively rendering any function of his legs useless. "Do you prefer coffee or tea?"

"…c-coffee?" Warren stuttered. There was no time to curse at it because she only squeaked again, delightedly pulling him after her. Max was about to laugh wholeheartedly, when it got stuck in his throat. They had gotten stuck.

A whole swarm of women had discovered their arrival. It was like the inside of a bee's nest, a buzz of voices from all sides, a nudging and chattering at every corner, caging them in, dozens of eyes trying desperately to catch a glimpse of them. The street was practically clogged with them.

"… because I saw him first!" Warren heard from somewhere within the masses. Erza had not exaggerated. Rather understated – they were all mad. And as it seemed, madly into him. His ears vented with his fierce blush.

"Show 'em your stuff," Max prod him from the side. His own face was beet red, though a keen grin crowned his lips. At least someone was enjoying himself. Elfman on the other hand looked somewhat dubious. He had gladly agreed to accompany them as extra muscle, though they all knew he was trying to get a break from his more and more commanding love interest, Evergreen.

"Right, so…" Warren started. Muttered was more like it, his voice drowning in the commotion.

"Again, be firm," Max urged. "Women love that,"

"Says who?" Warren hissed back. He felt his hand being taken again where someone tried to pull him to her. His other tensely grasped his bag. Max was in a similar situation, though by far less reluctant. He would have let them abduct him, no questions asked. "Any girl in Fairy Tail would kick your butt!"

"I think these would kiss it if you blinked," Max snickered.

"Manly!" Elfman suddenly hollered. The babbling stopped abruptly with it. A few curious pedestrians on the street winced, more and more frowning at the knot of people with a white-haired giant in the middle. "Now go," Elfman encouraged, accidently too loudly.

Warren's shaking hand grabbed a miniature communication lacrima, and all but thrust it out. A few women had to step back as not to be slapped in the face with it.

An ooh and aah travelled through the crowd. The next thing he remembered was Jewels flying his way, raining down on the street where any noises were drowned out by a storm of avid screams that made his ear beep for another half an hour.

He had no recollection of where the lipstick marks in the shapes of proper round lips all over his face had come from.

"No, really, a fortune!" Warren somewhat yelled into the lacrima. Erza smiled.

"That's great, good job,"

"I gave them a discount, and they paid more," he emphasised. He sounded euphoric. "The bank even asked me if they could buy some as an investment – these things are being treated like actual gold bars; this is the deal of my life!" He raved. "Thank you for recommending me, Erza!"

"Don't mention it," she chuckled. A brow raised when he enthusiastically went on, at some point dropping how he might have exchanged contacts with a few of the ecstatic ladies, one of them even going as far as offering to accompany him on his way back to Fiore. He would be stocking up on more lacrimas, though they had to be crafted first.

That, and he did not yet know what to do with all his money.

"Oh, by the way, you didn't bring a Magic Radar by any chance?" She asked.

"No, why? Another order?" He rubbed his hands on the other end of the connection. She shook her head with an amused smile.

"Then could you do us a favour while you're still in town?" She asked. He agreed without hesitation, and she explained the situation to him. A stupid one, really.

The police and military had been beside themselves with joy about the completed mission. After a thorough inspection of the forest hideout, they had sniffed out every last gang member and brought them to a high-safety prison. The hostages had been found within the villa in the south of town, most of them alive and unharmed. On top of that, an enormous collection of stolen goods and money had been recovered. Those who had filed a charge would be reimbursed. The rest of the treasure, so Jellal had insisted, would be invested in seal stone shackles and decent police training.

He had reported to the Council when Caelum's Magic Council had unexpectedly made an appearance, awarding the slightly baffled couple with medals, naming them Mages of Honour and offering them citizenship with immediate effect.

All of his hard-earned confidence had cracked where Jellal had shrunken with embarrassment, almost hiding behind his wife. But it had returned at once when the chief inspector of their initial bank robbery mission had announced to have questioned all captives on their magic abilities.

"Questioned?" Jellal had sucked in a sharp breath as not to raise his voice.
"Each and every one of them," the chief inspector had proudly declared.

"Wait, hold on," another sharp inhale, "so you sat them down, looked them deep in the eyes and asked whether they possessed magic?"

"Correct,"

"And has it ever occurred to you that they could be lying?" Jellal's temple had pulsed with an angry vein. Erza had not been quite sure whether to laugh or join him in exasperated sighs.

"I used this to detect any lies," the chief inspector had unwaveringly presented a small device. Jellal's eyes had nearly left their sockets.

"That's a Tanning Lacrima!" He had exclaimed. Erza had chosen laughing then. She had had to take his arm, soothing strokes and a gentle word to his ear the only things that had kept him from tearing any more hairs from his head.

"They don't know that," the chief inspector had finally become insecure, glancing at his men for help. They had been just as clueless, supporting Jellal's notion of an actual training. At least an IQ test.

"If you want to test someone on whether they have magic or not, you only have to find a reliable mage and ask them," Jellal had slowly explained. "Magic wielders can feel magic," he had specified. "Good heavens…" his fingers had wandered to pinch the bridge of his nose, luring out another giggle from her.

With the method clear, Erza sent Warren and the others to recheck the chief inspector's findings at the port while she and Jellal overtook those in Stansburry. She felt a tad giddy, fluttery at the thought of her guildmates not more than a good hour or two by cart away and in her current state. She had long traded her armour for something more comfortable, almost the moment they had left the spooky building. She felt all fuzzy with the thought of going to the guild while looking this pregnant.

"Thank you," she nodded, hanging up. Jellal was still busy where he took notes on the witnesses' statements, both those of the hostages as well as the soldiers' and policemen's impressions. She had to interrupt him when her lacrima buzzed in her hand. "Jellal," she tugged on his sleeve. He aborted without hesitation, by her side within the blink of an eye. Without knowing how important it was. "It's Jura," she held out the device. His momentary concern abated, tight lips suppressing a sigh.

He picked up. Jura's voice faintly reached her, but she did not listen. Caelum's Magic Council watched Jellal intently, and she was sure they were the ones to have contacted their colleagues in Fiore. The merchant ships would not have arrived yet.

Leaning back on the front desk, Erza closed her eyes for a moment. She did not have ponder for long to know to be craving a nap. A long nap. And dessert. Anything Jellal made. She remembered the librarian's advice, so she summoned the map of the region, studying the accommodations the old woman had listed.

One close to town, another right in the middle of the next city, a hut at a lake, a camping area bordering lush woods. Nothing too close to the sea, she found, pouting. In search of a pen to draw in routes that would allow them to have a look at every possibility, she bent over the desk. Something caught her eye.

Without touching the sheet of paper, Erza frowned at it. She waited for Jellal to end his call, unsuspiciously glancing through the officers in search of a familiar face. A criminal face. Nothing struck her, no obvious scar or menacing glare.

"Jellal," she muttered once he returned her lacrima. Unlocking it, she viewed the picture she had taken at the library. The list of people who had lent the book about fish species before. The handwriting was identical.

"It's incomplete," Jellal noted where he studied sheet of paper. Even with their limited knowledge of a few days, they noticed with a single skimming of the pages that not only recovered treasure was missing, but names of criminals, any note on their affiliation with dark guilds, as well as entire robberies they had been told had taken place. "Didn't you say there was a secretary here somewhere?" He quietly asked.

Erza turned to face the room, scanning in search of a woman.

"Is everything alright?" The bearded man in charge of Stansburry's police joined them. "The Council is spoiling for what the Fiore branch told you," he smiled at Jellal.

"Actually," Erza raised her map, "I was looking for your secretary, Gertrude," she remembered. "I accidentally smeared something here and wanted to ask if she had any ink removal solution," she excused. The man nodded in understanding, pushing through the rows of animatedly discussing military to a side door.

"Whoever wrote this, we can't accuse them openly," Jellal muttered in a lowered voice. "They could shoot or take anyone here as hostage,"

"But we can't let any potential hostage leave lest we risk them to elude us," Erza gave back behind the cover of her map. "Let's find out who they are first before taking any action,"

"I'll pretend to report what the Council said," he agreed. She lowered her map, glancing at him where he still surveyed the room.

"What did the Council say?" She asked. A grin spread across his lips, and he turned his eyes to twinkle at her from the side. Erza frowned. A mixture of puzzlement and amusement played on her face, but she did not get to dig deeper when the bearded policeman returned.

A woman shuffled behind him, her age at least twice that of Jellal, fragile round spectacles on her nose, a thin chain of metal attached to each side.

"Here we are," he introduced, "Gertrude," he gestured from her to the couple.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," the woman bowed.

"The pleasure is all ours," Erza returned.

"Let's see about that stain, dearie," Gertrude continued. Her feet hardly lifted where she wobbled behind the desk. Erza followed, and Jellal feigned to be busy with her lacrima. The older woman opened a drawer, revealing a multitude of pencils, erasers, quills, a magnifying glass and more. "Where are you headed?"

"Oh, we don't know yet," Erza smiled as she handed the map over. Gertrude studied the stain, wrinkles intensifying with her frown. "We'll explore the countryside for a while," she said, "see what Caelum has to offer,"

"That's right, you've never been here before, have you?" Gertrude absently asked as she adjusted her spectacles. Keeping the harmless conversation going, Erza sprung into action when the middle-aged lady began to spread the map out on the desk. Sorting a few papers to the sides, Erza ended up with the questionable list in her hand.

"You've worked on this so hard already," she praised, unsuspiciously holding the stack out.

"What's that?" Gertrude croaked as she had not been listening. Taking a closer look at the list, she waved off. "That's awfully nice of you, dearie, but that wasn't me. The chief inspector from the neighbouring city handed it in," she unknowingly confessed. A knobbly finger wandered along the unsealed road on the map back to where they had arrived. "He's in in charge over there, not here," she explained.

Erza nodded slowly, playing dumb. Jellal was already crossing the room.

He slid the lacrima into his front pocket, being welcomed into the circle of Council members and high-ranking officers. Chatting easily, he exchanged news of Fiore with them. They argued about the coming procedures, and he thanked the military for their aid, promising to be sending the official order of the Magic Council of Fiore in due time.

Lastly, when most of the men had already left, merely the handful of Stansburry officers slowly dispersing, he turned to the chief inspector. He thanked him with the same politeness, playing gratefulness. They shook hands, and their suspect turned to leave after the last policemen. His hand stretched out to grab the doorknob, when he froze. An unbelieving huff escaped him.

"What the-?!" He cursed, as if glued to the spot. Erza encircled the desk, coming to stand next to her husband. She crossed her arms in gleeful complacency.

The bearded policeman's jaw dropped at their revelations, and as if the book's list and the obviously forged one in the room were not enough, they also found a dark guild mark behind the chief inspector's high collar.

"So," Erza leaned into Jellal, triggering his arm to wind around her affectionately. She craned her neck, smiling up at him with the same enthusiasm she had felt during the first half of their infiltration. He returned it just as lovingly. "What did the Council say?"