Wow, thank you guys so much for your reviews! It's always a treat when readers take the time to leave a kind word or two, but you're outdoing yourselves over and over again.

I've rarely read such amazingly motivating and touching words - and while this is far from hard copy-able, I'm honoured you think that way, Sophie Nerina.

Goku275, thank you also for such a wonderfully spirited review! Sorry I didn't find the time to answer personally, but know how much I appreciate it :) There will be more of that mothering Wendy very soon ;D

Hope you'll enjoy: Chapter 150.

"Are you sure you're alright, love?" Jellal asked for what felt like the tenth time. He frowned to himself. She could have left the attic if she wanted to – surrounded herself with things she liked such as sweets or tea or that armada of blankets she hoarded day and night. Instead, Erza just stood there. Pouting. At least he hoped it was merely that.

"I suppose…" she sighed under her breath. Her eyes stayed glued to her in woolly socks bedded feet, arms indecisive between tightly crossing and pityingly hugging herself. Jellal ceased to pack his briefcase for work. He regarded her for a moment, smiling when she ventured a glance at him. Looking away again immediately. His smile widened.

"I won't be long," he promised, also not for the first time that morning.

"I just…" Erza frowned unhappily. She saw reason despite the difficulty she had had with it. Bringing her to the Council all the time – and he knew it would literally be the Council, not just Era – was going to harm his reputation at some point. He knew he could not keep her from coming, and that he did not want to, either. Yet he needed those excusable exceptions.

If he was to go to the Magic Council towards the end of her pregnancy, he could not risk being any further from her than two hundred metres. They had already agreed – place of birth did not matter as long as they were together.

"I'll be back as soon as I can, I promise," he approached her. She tightened her arms a little, avoiding his loving, amused gaze. "You're not feeling unwell, right?" He insisted. Not wanting him to go was one thing, but physical discomfort could mean danger for both her and the baby. "Erza," Jellal took her by her arms, leaning down in the hopes of her meeting his eyes.

Her shoulders fell, making his own relax in turn.

"I'm okay," she mumbled like a child having pilfered chocolate. Or stuffed its mouth with some. Was she eating? One could never be sure these days; she was nearly constantly eating. Only the last night, he had awoken at three in the morning to her crunchily nibbling on a handful of sugar snap peas. In bed. Under the blanket as not to be caught.

"How about a nice bath?" He tried. There had to be some way to cheer her up. One thing was certain – he was not letting her stay all alone. He had already called Meredy to come over. She did not yet know that he planned on recruiting her to stay for days, but she would understand, he told himself.

Not answering, Erza slid her arms around him. Her forehead dropped to his chest. He exhaled with the pity she had sought earlier, wrapping his arms around her in a firm embrace.

"It's not forever."

"It still feels strange," she muttered into him, forcing him to listen closely to be able to hear. "Not hungry, but queasy – without being queasy, like… it's like legs," she said.

"Legs?" Jellal frowned fiercely.

"Yes," she detached her face from him, eyes suddenly awake, "when your own legs are properly shaved and the other one's are prickly already," she explained. It only intensified his frown. Legs…? "Then they touch and the prickly person finds it pleasant while the one with the shaved legs feels uncomfortable," she nodded matter-of-factly.

Slightly baffled, he did not answer right away. Pleasant and prickly?

Her eyes shone at him, convinced of her argument, so he did not have it in him to sow faithlessness. "Right," Jellal pulled a bemused face, unable not to smile at how utterly adorable her twisted conception could be. And how promptly it had reappeared.

"You don't believe me?" She let go, this time crossing her arms resolutely in front of her chest.

"No, I just… it's hard to relate," he shrugged, giving an apologetic expression. Erza pushed out her lips in thought, brows creasing.

"I see…" she glanced to the side, "give me two minutes."

Jellal sighed deeply to himself. Asking himself why. Why always him. Was punishment really the only thing that he was destined to receive?

It was not too bad, he told himself; it could have been worse. It could have been better too though, he knew. He propped his chin up on his hand, watching her while she accompanied her task with humming, delightedly oblivious to the scars she scraped into his ego. At least no one would see him, Jellal thought, finding a way to persuade himself of not losing his entire pride on a single morning.

"You know," he said when she took a break from humming a cheerful tune, tongue sticking out as she focused. "When you said you needed two minutes, I was quite frankly expecting you to, I don't know, come up with another example," he gave her a look.

Erza blinked back, puzzled at the sarcasm in his tone. She tilted her head most adorably.

"Oh, well, this works just fine," she merrily turned back to her target. He pressed his lips together in soft annoyance. "There," she ran the razor up his leg one final time. Smiling complacently to herself, she gave it a nod.

Even though it was early spring and he had never been one to get a tan, it looked a lot whiter that he would have imagined. Not that he ever had – imagine his leg neatly shaved, that was.

"Now," Erza propped up her foot to join his on the rim of the bathtub. Despite his current situation, Jellal's focus momentarily shifted to it, how cute and small it was in comparison to his. Would he not have been under her reign at the moment, he surely would have given in to the urge of taking it, wrapping it up in his hands, simply admiring the perfectness that – to him – every part of her body possessed.

She continued before he had the time to ask himself whether he had a foot fetish.

"I didn't shave since yesterday,"

"What about this one?" He interrupted, pointing at his other leg, still covered in some hardening goo she identified as wax.

"Later, honey," Erza brushed his hand off, pointing at her leg again. "So now it's prickly and yours isn't, right?" She asked as if trying to teach a two-months-old what object permanence was.

"After one day?" He stared at her leg. It looked nothing like the way his chin did when not shaving for a day or two. She might have been a redhead, but those unsuspicious stubbles were strawberry blonde at the very least.

"Naturally," she retorted. He opened his mouth but Erza ignored it, finally wanting to get her point across. She stopped, however, the same way as him, hearing halfway through taking a breath that the front door's lock clicked.

"Knock knock," Meredy's voice came, "Jellal? Erza?" She called into the hall.

"Come in," he raised his voice to travel through the ajar door.

"We're in the bathroom," Erza added, quite unnecessarily as he found. The front door closed again. The thump of heavy boots on the stone flooring was heard, and a moment later, she appeared, peeking in.

"I was just- oh," Meredy blinked at them with fairly amused bewilderment. Primarily at Jellal's shiny leg. "Eh…" she frowned, a still mystified grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. She flashed it towards his rising blush. So much for the by trousers protected ego he had planned on in advance.

"Meredy, when someone says they're in the bathroom, what exactly about that statement makes you think you should come in?" Jellal fluttered his lashes at her, now truly annoyed though still flustered. She breathed out in unbelieving amusement, and he could practically see her thoughts and how she wished for Ultear to be there.

Meanwhile, Erza ignored the awkward conversation, trying to clarify her bad explanation by rubbing her shin along his calf. A shiver travelled down his spine.

"I distinctly remember you asking me in," she gave back, "and I have no regrets," she smirked, biting her lip as not to laugh.

"Into the house, you nutcase," he scolded, and she could not help a giggle anymore. He was red up to his ears. "Have we taught you nothing?" He shook his head, pretending to be more disappointed than he was embarrassed. Meredy just ogled, letting her eyes roam that immaculate leg of his. Probably noticing the same as he had and wondering how it was this white. "You may go now," he grumbled. Her smile brightened once more.

"Oh, no, I've already seen the wax, now I can't leave before the deed is done," she grinned. Coming in completely, she leaned against the wall in gleeful anticipation. Erza got the notion. Seeing as he would not acknowledge any of her doing until Meredy was done teasing him, she peeled at the end of the dried texture. He was still busy giving their guest a dirty look when she pulled.

Jellal screamed at the top of his lungs when Erza ripped the strip off. Shocked, he stared at her, then his leg. The white flesh was slightly red but so flawless, he gaped for a moment longer.

"Hey, that wasn't so bad…" he breathed. The startle washed off into relief at the lack of pain the method ultimately caused. Carefully – completely forgetting about the with laughter nearly exploding Meredy – he reached out to run his fingers along the freed streak. It was as smooth as a dolphin's skin. Not that he had ever touched one, but he now understood how Erza managed to make herself this immeasurably and irresistibly supple. And it still excluded any moisturising products.

"Glad you like it," Erza offered a smile which he sheepishly returned.

"I gotta go pray," Meredy excused herself, "pray for Ul to be seeing this," she muttered to herself, snorting with giggles all the way to the kitchen.

"I never said I liked it," he said, somewhat coyly. It was no use. Erza was already back to rubbing her leg to his, finally making her point with him ashamedly proud of how flawless his own now was.

He almost forgot the time and with that, his train's leaving time as he gladly returned his attention to his wife's feet.

"It'll be fine," Meredy allayed. "You trust me, right?"

"It's not you I'm worried about," Jellal let out a breath as he put on his suit's jacket, leaving the buttons open for the train ride. "Or your abilities," he added when she arched a brow at him. "But Erza's been overchallenged with herself lately, and I can't yet foresee her every mood," he reasoned.

"Isn't the solution always food?" Meredy guessed. She took his coat from the hanger while he stepped into his boots, holding it up for him to push his arms through the sleeves.

"Yes and no," Jellal buttoned the coat with fleet precision. That nervousness of hers really was rubbing off on him. "But make sure that there's always enough food – she eats three times a day and about three to four snacks in between meals. Don't let her tell you otherwise," he warned. "No sugar before bed – she'll either nag your ear off or bounce about until quarter past two in the morning."

"With or without the sugar?" Meredy pulled a face.

"Both," Jellal replied without hesitation. "And whatever you do, don't let her go shopping," he met her eyes intently. "The cellar is full of stuff; show her if she needs proof but don't let her stray away when you open the door. Lock it from the inside. Watch the windows. Walk her to the guild if she feels like going."

"What if I don't feel like going?"

"You go," he advised, "she'll teach you the hard way not to oppose her wishes," he swallowed in recollection. Meredy's eyes widened momentarily, so that was a plus. Most importantly, Erza's health had to be monitored, but he knew he did not have to mention it explicitly. Meredy was reliable and prudent, but still…

"Don't worry so much," she prodded a finger between his brows. "We'll be fine. You just focus on solving that case so you can come back right away," she smiled encouragingly. It did not infect him.

"I… don't think I can."

"Solve it?"

"Focus," he frowned his lips unhappily. Lowering his voice, he stole a glance at the closed door of the bathroom where Erza was still seeing to her legs becoming supple again. "The other day, she ran out on the street in the cold without even changing, yelling my name," he retold sadly.

"I'm pretty sure you're overthinking this," Meredy waved off casually. "Didn't you tell me once how she was out on the street without any clothes whatsoever?" She reminded, plucking lint off his coat.

"I didn't tell you that! Erik read my thoughts and made them a public announcement!" Jellal defended himself, blood rising to his cheeks.

"But it's true."

"Besides the point. What I'm saying is – also she wasn't yelling my name back then – but what I'm saying is that I shouldn't leave her now; she's too fragile after that whole Animal Soul disaster," he said, feeling the urge to kick off his boots and barricade himself into bed with his wife for the rest of the week.

"Here," Meredy caught his attention by shoving Erza's lacrima at his face. "Call me when you arrive, or chat with her for hours every night like you did when we went to the Onsen," she giggled when his blush deepened. He snatched the device out of her hand.

"Call me the second something happens – anything," he demanded. She mock-saluted in return, making him roll his eyes.

The bathroom door opened then, and he hardly had the time to turn around when her arms were already thrown around his neck.

"I found out," Erza whispered. He returned the hug, seeing Meredy edge away and up to the attic with her bag of clothes. She had guessed, of course, bringing what she needed.

"Found out?" Jellal murmured just as quietly. Erza's arms tightened, her face pressing into his shoulder.

"I already miss you," she confessed. The tension flowed off him with a warm rush of the same queasiness she had felt. He squeezed her as tightly as he could while being careful.

He also already missed her, even while still in her embrace.

"No sugar when it's her time of the month – she'll tell you she needs it, but it always gives her stomach aches," Jellal said as nonchalantly as he could with light blue eyes humorously twinkling at him. "And not too much coffee a day," he instructed.

"Roger," Erza replied, most likely nodding sternly. Giving her a task was working wonders for that delicate mental state of hers. Not only that, but he found that both most important women in his life needed his guidance, even if through someone else.

It made him wonder whether there would be another girl, or perhaps a most important boy in his life soon. Time was flying almost too rapidly for his taste, no matter the way impatience made him chew off his lip at night.

His voice lowered considerably when sending his love, cheeks tinged pink despite Ambrose pretending not to have heard.

"She reminds me more and more of my Maggie—I mean of Margret," he said. So much for pretending, Jellal thought. "Determined, strong-willed, stubborn," Ambrose enumerated. Jellal found himself nodding along. "And with a quivering chin that could guilt-trip you into taking walks through thunderstorms."

"Or bake macarons past midnight,"

"Or that," Ambrose nodded, chuckling to himself.

"So when were you going to tell me what all the packing is for?" Jellal eyed the folder of documents as it vanished inside the old man's bag. Travelling bag, so it seemed. "You're not going on holiday now that I'm here, are you?" He asked. He prayed there would be no 'yes' – he could really need the help with that tricky case he had come for.

"Let's call it payback," Ambrose said without batting an eye.

"You're pulling my leg, old man," Jellal leaned back, a hint of insecurity left. He showed none of it. "How dare you taunt me in such a vulnerable time, taking me for a fool. I'm the only one ludicrous enough to take this much work with me," he argued. Ambrose nodded.

"Quite so," he affirmed. "I shall go to Bosco on Friday – the Council needs witness reports from reliable sources," he said.

"Bosco?" Jellal raised a brow. He remembered Ambrose to have grown up either in or at the border of Fiore's neighbouring country, but he could not imagine someone his age being sent on such a long journey for some interviews. They had messengers. "Are you sure you're fine with travelling that far?"

"What's your second name?" Ambrose asked instead of answering. Jellal frowned.

"I'm already rather glad I have a last name," he finally admitted. Erza proudly carried the name he had given to her, but most of the children at the Tower of Heaven could not remember theirs should they have had one to begin with.

"You see, that is the problem," Ambrose came to sit down in the opposite armchair, cradling his favourite teacup in his palm. "The people there think very highly of those with middle initials – don't ask me why, it's simply the way they are; it impresses them," he expounded.

"I see," Jellal nodded. "Then you'd be by far the better choice – I don't even have a birthday," he grinned.

"I'm fairly certain you have one," Ambrose countered. He took a sip from his tea, Jellal mirroring him.

"I wouldn't know it," he said, his words causing steam to puff forth from the hot liquid, "but my child will. He or she will know, and we'll celebrate it," he smiled to himself. It felt odd, seeing himself smile so honestly through the reflection of his tea, but he could not help it.

Ambrose let out his distinctive 'hoho' laughter. "You should do some visiting at an orphanage; you're a beacon of hope," he smiled.

"An orphanage?"

"It helps them when they hear that you've had a similar situation before," Ambrose retold. Jellal frowned, then huffed lightly to himself.

"Right," he curled his lips inwards, "I doubt that would work – or else I'd march in there, telling them that we all don't have parents but at least they weren't child slaves," he tutted. Him, a beacon of hope? Nonetheless, the fuzzy warmth of imagining tiny hands on giant ribbons made his smile crawl back into place.

Focusing was already hard during regular conversations; how was he supposed to be productive when it came to work?

"Now this is getting off the rails…" Ambrose muttered. Jellal cringed, lowering his gaze.

"I'm sorry, that was too personal," he scratched the back of his head. Not that the Council did not know about his past, but their memories were rather Wizard-Saint-making-them-fire-Etherion-and-destroying-the-building centred.

"Oh, no, just for work," Ambrose rose to his feet. It was past seven, both of the men's brains begging for rest after a tedious emergency trial. "But afterwards," he glanced at the clock meaningfully, "I'd be all ears. I hear there's a chef in town who makes the most divine noodle casserole," he smiled knowingly.

"Where exactly did you hear that?" Jellal narrowed his eyes.

"On the market, already over a fortnight ago," Ambrose smirked. "A customer exiting a shop happened to mention it to anyone willing to listen – more or less willing, to put it frankly."

"And was that shop – purely by chance – of the Heart Kreuz chain?" Jellal stood as well, amusement playing on his features.

"How do you know?" Ambrose faked astonishment. Jellal chuckled, shaking his head.

"Well, in that case, I'd be happy to have—" he stopped short when Erza's lacrima buzzed in his pocket. "Excuse me for a moment," he smiled, seeing Meredy's contact. It was too early for Erza's good night call, but he assumed it to be her anyway. A fraction of lovestruck hope was also in play.

"Jellal?" Meredy answered to his surprise. And slight disappointment. Not that any more calls with Erza would be appropriate to be held at the office.

"Hey, what's—"

"Jellal, I'm sorry, and I don't want to upset you – I'll fix this, you don't have to come back, it's not—"

"What's wrong, Meredy?" He asked, urgency picking up when hers all but seeped through the connection. "Did something happen?"

"Well, no," Meredy was starting to sound sheepish rather than panicked, and he prayed she was merely concerned about his reaction. "The thing is…" she hesitated. "I lost Erza."