Just a thought: Imagine Irene had succeeded, enchanting herself onto Erza, and... then she would have been a baby... right? The perhaps second strongest, most powerful mage of all time... a baby... can kill you with magic, but can't lift her head... or feed herself... or get up...

...

Genius.

Jellal lifted the quill of the parchment, placing it back in its flask. He knew he had to catch up with work – at least he wanted to despite the leave of absence he had been granted. Eyeing the stack of completed documents, he found he could justify his short break. And it was not entirely a break either, the words as if flowing from his fingers. Well-chosen words.

They had received letters of congratulations, one in particular having astonished them. Queen Hisui had written it herself, not simply signed. He was keen to know whether it was due to his position at the Council, or if perhaps she still had a soft spot for Fairy Tail. Asking Gajeel and Levy would suffice; he tried to remember it for when they would go to the guild the coming day.

Rosemary did not know that, of course, but Jellal felt that he was even more excited than she would have been, had she understood. The guild was going to see his baby for the first time…

Folding the thank-you letter to the royal palace, he merely put it on top of its envelope. Erza still had to read it – and just when thinking about her, the ladder to the attic creaked. It was not the kind of creaking he liked to hear.

Slightly hastily, she scrambled to stand once arrived. Jellal scooted back as if automatically, and she hardly gave him the time to outstretch his arms, slumping into him with force. He quickly created a shield behind the chair as support so they would not fall over. It vanished just as fleetly once he regained his balance, allowing him to fully concentrate on his quietly sobbing wife.

"Rosie?"

"Between pillows," she brought out. A shuddering breath warmed his neck, and her shoulders fell with the squeeze he gave. Gently, he passed one hand between them, the other making sure to keep her close. Her legs squished his where she clumsily straddled his lap, but the stronger his strokes down her abdomen became, the more she relaxed. He could not imagine what she must have felt like; if it was merely the adrenaline pulsing through her veins or if her body contracted with actual, physical pain that was similar to labour.

Precipitate labour… it had only ever been a term to him before that fateful night.

"My love," he murmured with his jaw hooked onto her shoulder. She replied with a sigh, the tight grip on his shirt loosening. "Would you do me a favour and cut my hair today?" He asked. He was prepared for silence, and for asking again later, but he was not prepared for the shaking of her head. Both winced when it made their heads collide, and Erza grumbled something apologetic. Or perhaps simply a complaint at the pain.

"I like your hair," she then mumbled, the pout audible. Letting go of his shirt with one hand, she ran her fingers up and through the lengthening strands at his nape.

"How about a compromise?" He suggested, piquing her curiosity. He could feel it by the way her movements gained a light staccato, focus shifted to listening.

"You let me get my hair cut?"

"No," he said, a tad too immediately. Her smile widened into his neck, and she kissed the spot when he nagged unintelligibly. "We can stick to the ponytail-pact," he reminded, "from our honeymoon."

"Can we honeymoon again sometime?" Erza suddenly asked, distracted. "It doesn't have to be soon, just… sometime."

"Isn't that a once-in-a-lifetime sort of event?" He arched a brow. They both knew too well that he would not refuse, but he had learned by now not to give in without challenging her a little. At least putting his concerns out there until heart won over brain and he agreed of his own free will.

"It's annual from what I've heard," Erza said, pretending to ponder on it. He could not help but snort, making her squeak when poking his fingers into her side. "You didn't hear it from me."

"Of course," he chuckled. Less teasingly, he nudged her ribs and she followed the gesture. Meeting his eyes, presenting her pout that treacherously twitched upwards into a smile, she looked nothing like the flash of tears and shivers from a few minutes ago. "Ponytail-pact?"

"Will you wear it tomorrow?" She asked almost hopefully.

"I might if you cut my hair," he shrugged. She pushed her lower lip further out, musing, then nodded in agreement. "Let's have Rosie watch," he proposed.

"Why?" Erza tilted her head. "Because falling hair is physics?" She smirked, eyes twinkling mischievously. She yelped when dove back in, tickling her sides, his other arm keeping her trapped. She slapped his hand away, then kept swatting at nothing while trying to catch her breath. He waited.

Apparently, patience was worth a kiss, because she stole one just before shoving herself off him.

"Can it wait until later? I don't trust myself with a blade close to your throat right now," she drawled the last word, covering her mouth when having to yawn. He stood too, spotting the waiting letter from the corner of his eye.

"I asked for a haircut, not a shave," he quipped. "Here," he picked up the parchment, "I answered the congratulations from the palace," he handed it over. Taking it, Erza skimmed the lines with a small smile. Receiving the offered quill, she bent over the edge of the desk to sign next to his name. "Oh, and this," Jellal reached for another letter. Hers.

"We can bring them to the post office together," Erza absently noted, knowing what he was referring to. Or so she must have thought. He took a breath before continuing.

"Erza, you know you can't fight anyone right now – at least not someone this strong," he carefully started. "It's too risky," he added. She was not pregnant anymore, but that did not mean that their baby was not depending on her.

Straightening up, she frowned.

"Who says I wanted to fight anyone?"

"Your card," he waved the reply to Mermaid Heel's congratulations. "Or is it meant as a joke?"

"Joke?" Erza's brows creased further, and she peeked at the writing. Not finding anything amiss, she returned his puzzled gaze. "I mean every word of it," she declared, somewhat proudly. "Look, I even added poetry," she pointed at the last paragraph. He felt a drop of sweat form on his temple. It had to be said.

"Erza, these sound like death threats."

"No, they don't," she puffed out her chest, bordering affronted.

"My blade itches to unite with your heart," Jellal read sceptically.

"It's a metaphor," she huffed. "The blade is me." Pride returned, her hands landing on her hips as if she was telling him how two plus two equalled four.

"It sounds as if you wanted to impale someone!" Jellal protested. She preached honesty and honesty was what she would get – there was no way he would let another arch enemy drama go down, especially not when he had to take care of his baby daughter. He would have to rewrite the letter entirely.

Erza sulked, arms crossed over her chest, but ceased any objections. She let him wrap her up in his embrace, kiss her neck and nose his way into her hair. Releasing a long sigh just before he did, the tension of her muscles eased. The tiredness scooted into the foreground again, her lids seemingly becoming heavier.

He opened his mouth, but froze before pronouncing a single word. So did she. There was a knock on the door.

Jellal slid down the ladder within the split of a second, hovering between the bed and the window. Erza followed a moment later, both eyeing the front door through the open bedroom door. The knocking paused, then resumed after a polite but insistent break. She took his place, crawling up to their sleeping baby while he went into the hall.

All senses on high alert, Jellal narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the stranger in front of their house.

"Jellal Fernandes?" The man asked. He nodded to himself without confirmation. His eyes flashed to the marks on Jellal's face, and it seemed to relieve him – he must have been told that he would recognise his target easily.

Behind him, so Jellal noticed, were several rune knights, clustering the small alley between the two houses. It erased the possibility that the man was an imposter; the Council must have sent him.

"Yes," Jellal finally answered. There was no harm in admitting the indisputable.

"I am here on behalf of the Magic Council – I have been sent to take," he paused, lowering his voice, "the cases 167.2 to 170.1," he explained. He proved his claim with an official decree of which Jellal kept the carbon.

"Oh," was all Jellal replied at first. "I will get them right away."

"Is everything alright?" Erza asked from behind him, padding out of the bedroom.

"Of course—"

"Master Fernandes, absolutely no one is to know about them," the man at the door urgently hissed, making Jellal halt in his tracks.

"Erza does," he simply said, inwardly facepalming himself. Can, might have been a better choice of words, but it was too late now.

Bare feet joined him, her smile easy and reassuring.

"It's alright, I'm well aware of the secrecy – Jura has allowed for me to know of their location," she excused. She never looked at anything in detail, and apart from her impregnable sense of duty, Jellal knew she hardly cared to read them to begin with. Too much work.

"Master Neekis never—"

"You can ask him; he'll know," she interrupted just as smoothly.

"Erza," Jellal mildly chided, only to be graced with the same serene smile of self-confidence. He could not help but smile back.

"Erza Scarlet," the messenger muttered, more to himself. "Scarlet," he added under his breath. His gaze was not on her anymore though, the name of striking colour directed at the second source. Rosemary's head, buried in the crook of her mother's neck, had caught his attention. "Right!" He suddenly snapped into a salute. Frowning, Jellal went to grab the files, watching closely how the man kept observing the dozing child with interest.

Jellal had hardly shut the door behind the unexpected guests when Erza giggled.

"The Council tasked him with that," she said, caressing her daughter's back with her thumb.

"They didn't," Jellal shook his head, not convincing himself any more than her.

"They did – Jura must have asked him to spy out any details," she grinned. Moving forward and somewhat into him, she dropped her head to lean on his chest. "I'm tired, won't you join us?" She asked, so close it warmed his collarbone.

"In a bit," he promised. She raised her head in question. Jellal closed his hands and reopened them. The wood of the now half-empty desk was burned into the back of his eye. "I'm going to make us some tea," he suggested, returning her smile until she had left for the bedroom. He followed, tucking both in, then sauntered into the kitchen.

The Council would surely not give out instructions out of curiosity, would they? They needed the cases, and such a stunningly beautiful red was indeed quite rare. A mere coincidence, he told himself.

A handful of cases were left, and Jellal had no doubts that the lack of more work in exchange for the completed files was no coincidence at all. No, Ambrose must have been meaning well, unburdening him. It made Jellal nervous, his fingers itching with something to do despite his own exhaustion, so he busied himself with brewing a particularly delicious tea.

Halfway through filleting the second lemon, he heard Rosemary wake. While trying to remember whether it was early lunch or dessert time for her, he took extra care to sweeten his beloved's beverage to her liking. He could hardly wait until it was his turn to cook for both of them, not least because he would finally be able to take it off Erza's hands. Or breasts, he pondered, then scratched the thought.

The bedroom was quiet again when he entered, one sigh of content following the previous, small sigh of content. Rosemary slackened, falling onto her back with her warmly filled, round belly for all the world to see. Erza chuckled, rolling her daughter onto her side to avoid any choking hazard before adjusting her own shirt.

"I see she gets the ladylike charms from you," Jellal teased. Erza shot him a glare, but he could see the amusement sparkle behind a veil of sleepiness. She waited until he was in reach and had set the tea down to slap him.

"Pray tell me more unfiltered truths," she fluttered her lashes at him threateningly, "if you dare."

"You have no literary skill whatsoever," he deadpanned. She punched his biceps again, only stopping when Rosemary gave a soft coo of complaint at the wobbling of the mattress. "You're on my side of the bed," Jellal went on milder. Her fist retreated. He had not yet taken a breath to continue when she had sunken back down, snuggling her face into her pillow and her daughter to herself.

He had to smile. Propping his head up on one elbow, he regarded her in the dim light from behind the curtains. Those long lashes she mocked and at the same time enticed him with, her soft lips he knew were hiding a tongue as sharp as it could be mellow.

"You are the most beautiful woman in all of Earthland," he murmured into the silence. Her smile curved back into place, eyes remaining shut. "With the most mesmerising hair." He reached out with his free hand, allowing himself to let scarlet tresses flow through his fingers like ribbons of silk. "You have the cutest expression when I catch you grabbing a snack past midnight," he smirked.

The corners of her mouth twitched, and she bit her lip as not to give him precisely that pout he was talking about.

"You have the most wonderful voice that can melt the flesh off my bones," he said, trying to make his own just as balmy, trailing a hand down her arm. "And you are one heck of a good baby maker," he grinned. She laughed at that, just when he had thought her to have drifted off.

"Do you mean the process or—"

"I mean that this is one beautiful baby you made," he then traced down the back of his daughter with the backs of his fingers. Erza's smile broadened even more than it had before, her eyes opening to find his.

"Likewise," she purred.

He cuddled them both, not having expected to be overtaken by his own exhaustion mere minutes later. They awoke past lunch, and only because it had indeed only been breakfast's dessert and not a proper lunch Rosemary had demanded, rousing her parents with a wailing hunger-reminder.

Jellal overtook baby duty afterwards, Erza insisting on washing up in the kitchen. He brought Rosemary with him to the attic, being the least productive he had ever been when work turned into a game of market – a contest he set up himself to see which desk object she would find the most fascinating. The feathery end of his quill won by a landslide.

When he gasped loudly at some point, Erza hasted up the ladder, panting, about to scold him until seeing what it was that he had discovered. Or rather created. Clumsily, somewhat ruining both of her parents' signatures, Rosemary had signed the thank-you letter herself, an ink stain of her tiny hand now smearing the bottom right corner. Erza swooned more audibly than she ever had when drooling after a piece of her favourite cake.

It did not stop her from nearly panicking again that evening, scurrying into the bedroom from where he urgently called her name.

"Look, Erza," he sucked in a breath, "our baby," he hissed, enthralled. She collapsed face-first into the sheets. She should have seen it coming – it was not the first time he had done it, always in a different variation of voices, but always marvelling. His face was the same every time.

"Idiot," she grumbled. "I thought something was wrong; you scared me," she pushed herself up on her front, shooting him a strict glare. It washed away when she saw that he was not listening. He might not even have heard, his eyes big and spellbound by those of his daughter. That new habit of his unfolded, so Erza did not say anything else.

Her eyes – his eyes – gradually closed as Rosemary nodded off. He seemed almost sad not to be able to see them anymore; to keep gazing and falling for her. Erza crawled up next to her, lying down for what she found was a well-deserved rest after having done the dishes again. She could feel his gaze, though not on herself. He was waiting, she knew; waiting to be granted another peek at the dark green he had only ever seen in a mirror. And when the moment came, he would remind his wife of his former self, rotting in a lonely prison cell when suddenly, finally gaping at the rising sun for the first time in decades.

Now who makes a beautiful baby, Erza wanted to say, but kept it to herself. She dozed for a while, then slept more soundly after having been woken up by her daughter. Jellal was back upstairs, focus long in coming as he frequently stole glances to the side, ogling the tiny handprints. He would frame one, he decided, perhaps every month to record her growth. Have her sign the diary he was writing, it hit him.

He frowned when there was yet another knock on their front door, the sun only just vanishing behind horizon. The sky was still on fire, orange and crimson light setting the attic ablaze.

The bedroom was already streaked in darkness, and Jellal pulled the door further closed behind him before opening the front one.

"Hey," he was greeted with an odd mixture of nonchalance and excitement. Gray was not panting, but he seemed to have hurried. His chest – bare as usual – sprouted tiny droplets of sweat. Juvia on the other hand was breathing more heavily, having stuck to her crush's heels as usual.

"Is everything alright?" Jellal asked. He stepped aside, bidding in, and the two looked gladder than expected upon taking the invitation. "Did something happen at the guild?" Jellal enquired.

"No, nothing," Gray mumbled as he removed his shoes. Juvia copied him, quietly thanking Jellal as he took her coat and hat she apparently wore in late spring as much as in winter. They were certainly making themselves at home, but only when neither moved towards the kitchen, merely stealing glances around, did Jellal comprehend.

"Would you like to see the baby?" He asked, a smile in his voice. Gray did not look at him, responding just as casually as he had tried to in front of the door. Juvia nodded heftily. Both of them eagerly peered into the bedroom when their host complied.

"Jellal?" Erza mumbled when light from the hall flooded the room. He inhaled to allay her, to let her know that he would be taking care of their guests, contemplating whether to tell her at all as not to shoo her out of bed. Rosemary had other ideas. Her mother's movements served as the perfect excuse to be awake and entertained. Perhaps she wanted to play with his ink again, Jellal found himself hoping; hoping she enjoyed his games as much as she savoured her mother's warmth and closeness.

Erza gave a tired groan when Rosemary started nagging, wiggling and waiting just another moment until hauling out the big guns. Jellal was quicker, picking her up from the crook of his wife's body. The latter turned over, deflating in a deep sigh of gratitude.

"It's alright," he lowered his voice to a whisper, "Papa's here," he soothed. Rosemary cooed in response, warming his heart; his entire body when seemingly having arrived right where she wanted to be. Instead of waving about jerkily, her arms raised to the best of their ability. He lifted her higher, and she held his face with those tiny hands, complacent.

"Oh, she is just the cutest…" Juvia ended in a squeal, wiggling more than the baby, then taking her crush's arm, causing them both to wiggle. Gray did not move a muscle, staring on. Letting him go, she tilted her head. She opened her mouth in question, but he spoke up first. Not to her, it seemed, but to no one in particular – not even himself.

"Papa…" Gray's muttering broke Jellal's trance. Feeling the mesmerised gazes, both Jellal and Erza had to smile, even though she did not even open her eyes once. He saw her smile edge into place, returning the amused twinkle when she glanced at him from below.

"Gray, my darling?"

"Amazing…" Was all Gray breathed, feeling unwatched with Jellal purposefully focusing on Rosemary or his wife. "A life of your own…"

"You can have one!" Juvia immediately screeched, lowering her volume to an acceptably urgent tone when Rosemary winced. Gray's lips tightened, eyes never straying from Rosemary.

"I could never ask that of you," his voice was but a whisper, and he gulped, still enraptured by the way tiny hands reached for the stubbly chin of her father.

"Juvia will gladly bear your child!" Juvia nearly burst again in that awkward, overdone manner of hers. The colour of her head certainly looked the part. His, for once, did not. Gray did not cringe like he always did – even if he had every right to, Jellal found, biting down his own somewhat coy grin.

A moment of silence passed. Erza had closed her eyes again, her flank rising and falling rhythmically, but Jellal knew she was listening; waiting just like him.

Juvia shivered from head to toe when Gray took her hand. He was still watching Rosemary; the way she explored the scratchy feeling against her own, beyond soft skin, and the way she looked at her father with big, happily expectant eyes.

"Someday…" Gray said, giving Juvia's hand a squeeze, "right?"

She had tears standing in her eyes, any over the top fangirling shed for a glow of sincere affection that reflected in her eyes. It was a serious topic, and it appeared as if they were able to mature through each other.

"Right," she nodded, returning the squeeze. He gulped again, only then stealing a fleet glance at her. She beamed back, and he offered a small smile of his own, his cheeks flaming. They did not cease to do so, not even when he averted his eyes and focused back on Rosemary. If anything, it only made the red of his face darken.

Enchanted, he crept closer. Both he and Juvia seemed relieved when Jellal nodded at the bed for them to sit down. He followed suit on his side, scooting across the mattress to place his daughter down in their midst. She waved her little arms when being separated, but stayed calm when he left his hand with her, tickling her little belly and pretending to elude her clumsily determined grasp.

"She's so active," Juvia noted. Gray was apparently still seeking words, merely observing for now.

"I would've said she gets it from Erza, but…" Jellal shrugged, pulling a much saying face. He was rewarded with a pillow flying towards his head.

"Just keep talking; she'll be kicking your butt too in no time," Erza grumbled. The three of them had to laugh, and Jellal saw how Erza cuddled into the blanket mainly to hide her own smirk. She did not sit up or even turn to join them, but again he was sure she kept her ears open when Gray started reporting happenings at the guild.

"… disappointed because he prolonged his quest again without showing," he was retelling when Jellal was almost sure Erza had fallen asleep.

"She said he left her a message but still, she is angry that he sent it through Mira and not to Cana directly," Juvia sighed. Her expression brightened when spotting the way Gray was sneaking his hand towards Rosemary. "You have it good, don't you?" She smiled at Rosemary. "Your father won't leave you to take months-long S-Class quests, will he? Of course not," she babbled in a sing-song to the baby's delight. Gray stole a glance to the side, blushing even more at how well she was handling the nearly two-week old.

"Speaking of quests, I assume Natsu and Lucy are still on theirs?" Jellal asked. He was certain that they would have stormed the house otherwise, having braced himself daily.

"Natsu refuses to use public transportation," Gray rolled his eyes. Juvia blinded Jellal with her lacrima screen, proving her beloved's words with a message from Lucy. It was a surprise that the 'love rivals' texted, but a positive one.

"They were at Akane Beach this morning, but when Juvia told them about, well," she averted her eyes, glancing fondly at Rosemary, then apologetically at Jellal. He returned a smile, allaying her concerns.

"Let's just say they made it to Hargeon by midday," Gray grinned sheepishly. Jellal had to chuckle. On foot, that was more than an impressive speed, not to mention stamina.

"Oh, and I sent this to your lacrima," Juvia held her own up again, showing Erza's sparse chat. "They did as you asked them and bought Meredy some flowers," she presented a picture taken inside the Guid Hall. Meredy was holding a bouquet of flowers so big, she needed both arms, weighed down by the gift. Jellal shook his head, though with a smile. Those morons had had to overdo it, of course – they must have spent some of their own money on it as well to get something of that size. In a way, Crime Sorcière was not altogether that different from Fairy Tail. "It's doing it again…" Juvia pursed her lips, frowning at the unintended notifications her screen became cluttered with.

"I'm glad she's enjoying her day off," Jellal smiled, eager to view the photo again on Erza's lacrima. "She deserves it."

"She went with the others on a mission, I think," Gray supplied. "Though I'm not sure if it was another surprise or an actual job," he shrugged. Juvia gave a small whine beside him, fetching the men's attention. Not Rosemary's, who began to remember her cravings for dessert.

"Warren is back in Caelum with his girlfriend, so I haven't been able to ask," Juvia explained herself. Lucy was not there either, Meredy obviously busy, and the idea of asking Laxus probably never even occurred to her. Jellal was about to suggest Mirajane when Rosemary howled into his hand that she had been chomping on aimlessly. She suckled on his finger, spitting it out as if mortally betrayed since there was no milk rewarding her efforts. He touched his wife's ankle with his non-slobbery hand.

"Erza, love, are you awake?" He asked. She gave a grunt, only moving when he continued to stroke along her ankle.

"I'm awake," she mumbled, inhaling deeply to rouse properly. "That doesn't mean you have to stop," Erza added, making him chuckle. "Thanks," she breathed when he handed their daughter over, sitting back on his heels. He collected her foot onto his lap, massaging it. Meanwhile, she let Rosemary's head rest on her biceps, pulling her shirt down with her other hand. "Come here," she quietly said. It did not need another word for Rosemary to latch on, almost seeming triumphant. Erza's eyes closed again. She visibly enjoyed his ministrations, so he repeated them on her other foot, having to find it beneath the sheets.

Gray watched her back, not disturbed in the slightest when Juvia gave a faint gasp, clicking her tongue.

"Juvia meant to ask if Miss Erza's lacrima is having problems – Juvia's keeps saying strange things," she held it up again, and Jellal could only frown at the text boxes.

"I'm not an expert, but we could compare the settings," he offered. Erza took a deep inhale to get up, but he stopped her with a hand on her calf. "Don't get up," he said, so she told them where her lacrima was.

The bedroom quieted once they had left for the kitchen. A minute ticked by, their voices faint enough not to be understood. Rosemary's sucking was slowly weakening, her grabby fingers uncurling, slackening.

Gray's sigh eventually broke the comfortable silence.

"She suits you," he said. Erza slightly turned on her back, returning his soft gaze over her shoulder. "You're a mama, Erza," he breathed, as if realising for the first time.

"I'm a mama," Erza returned just as mellowly. With her thumb, she rubbed up and down her baby's arm, regarding her lovingly. "I don't know if I'm any good—"

"You are; you will be," Gray interrupted, more confidently than she would have. Her smile broadened, that fondness now directed at him.

"It's certainly a surprise to hear you say that," she almost grinned, and so did he. He gave a huff, though rather of helpless amusement than irritation.

"I'm glad—I mean I'm happy for you," he emphasised. Lowering his head, his gaze fell to his lap where he had folded his hands. They clasped and unclasped, but she did not rush him. Rosemary was sliding off her breast, though determined not to release her source of food just yet. "It's time you looked after yourself, not us." He did not look up as he spoke.

"You sound like Master," Erza smiled.

"Then he's right," Gray nodded to himself. "If Natsu doesn't get his act together it can't be helped – we've been through enough to handle ourselves and I'm glad you're doing what you want for once." He kept avoiding her eyes. She reached out a hand, fingers apart for him to slide his in between. He ventured a glance at the gesture, contemplating the invitation. "You know it'll make her sensors tingle," he finally declined.

"Not just hers," Erza purred with amusement. They both chuckled. He settled with a hand on her knee.

"Oh, we brought something for you," he retracted his hand to rummage through his pocket. Erza's brow creased, but she was distracted when Rosemary's mouth fell off her breast, sleep having won at last. "Here," Gray held out what she recognised was a small hair slide. Simple and black, but at the end, there was a flower attached. It resembled the shape in which Gray would ice-mould his flowers, but it was made of yarn like Juvia used when stitching Gray's face onto her towels and pillows. It was self-made for sure.

Erza all but gaped at it in the half dark, the light from the hall allowing to distinguish hues of blue and violet. She reached towards it, then reconsidered, closing his fingers as if for him to keep it. Sitting up, she adjusted her shirt and then her baby to sit on her knees. Rosemary's head fell back against her mother's shoulder, hardly rousing her.

Without a word passing her lips, Erza glanced at Gray expectantly. Invitingly. His eyes flashed from her to the baby, and he took a quick inhale before scooting closer. He was so absorbed into his task, focusing hard on not scratching the soft baby skin, he failed to notice Jellal's and Juvia's return.

Rosemary's hair was still too short to be needing a pin, but it was thick and so he had no problems sliding the pin through. She hummed in her sleep, and he could not help but gingerly run the backs of his fingers down her cheek.

"Thank you," Erza said. He felt caught, smiling nonetheless. He nodded. "We'll wear it to the guild tomorrow, won't we?" Erza rubbed her daughter's tummy, enticing a grumble and a burp. It made them laugh – and Gray aware of the company.

"You're coming tomorrow?" He asked, somehow seeming to be addressing Rosemary instead of her mother. He glanced up at Erza to erase any doubts, or rather to cover the truth. He had always been great with Wendy, so Erza found she should not have been so surprised that he fell an easy victim to his sort-of niece. "Then I'll tell Natsu to wait there," he declared, "otherwise he'll kick down your door, I'm sure," he scoffed. Erza only smiled, nodding her thanks.

She saw them off at the door, not least because she wanted to see the lovely gift in better light. Neither Juvia nor Gray could resist shaking the tiny, chubby hand goodbye. Rosemary quietly snored into her mother, earning herself more chuckles. Jellal closed the door, but Erza reopened it after a minute, stealing a peek down the street to see her assumption proven – they were walking closely together under the cover of the night.

"Violet, huh?" Jellal regarded the accessory as best as he could with his daughter's face squashed into his wife's collar bone.

"Don't forget Plum," Erza sparkled up at him, almost forgetting just how tired she was. The tea he had made was forgotten entirely by now, only coming to mind the following morning.

Jellal snorted, shaking his head. With an arm around her back, he led them all into the bedroom, flicking off the light in the hall.

"Easy, Tigress," he said in a low voice. "First, we're going to have to introduce Violet to the pack."